The Will of Fire
by Gaereth
Summary: What if Sarutobi, unwilling to let the Yondaime die, was the one to use the Shiki Fuujin and seal the Kyuubi into Naruto? How would Naruto have changed, and what kind of place would Konoha be? Eventual NaruXHarem. Check Forum for polls. Back in business.
1. Chapter 1

The Will of Fire

Chapter One: The Beginning

It was a small room, but not cramped, despite the sheer amount of stuff within. The walls were lined with books, and the floor was littered with scrolls and loose paper. At one end of the room, a small window looked out at the sunset, which was casting a ruddy light over the outside village. And, squeezed between two bookshelves, was a small desk, with a large scroll sitting on it. But, the most noticeable of all was the smoke, which wafted slowly through the room, putting a haze over everything. The source of the smoke was a long pipe, worn by years of hard use, which was being slowly smoked by an old man.

He looked like an elderly chap, but he had aged well. True, his hair had been white for quite some time, and he bore some wrinkles and such. But his body was still lean and fit, his eyes sharp and keen. Of course, at the moment, those eyes were glazed over slightly from the effects of the drug, but one could see the intelligence positively shining from him. He was in a most relaxed position, leaning back in a chair with his feet propped up, and his head was tilted back, his eyes fixed sightlessly on the ceiling.

He stared at the ceiling, puffing absentmindedly at his pipe. It had been a long day, and he felt the stress of it in his muscles, a constant ache. Then again, it was a better aching than the one he had as a result of his age, so maybe it was a good thing. He leaned back a little in his chair, shifting his body a little to achieve maximum comfort and minimum tension. Yes, it had been a good retirement. After all, as far as he was concerned, consolidating his entire collection of learned jutsu into a single scroll was far more important than being the Sandaime Hokage.

He turned his head and gazed fondly at his _magnum opus_, his life work, which lay open on his desk. Yes, he had put a lot of himself into it. Every jutsu he had ever learned he had placed there, along with detailed descriptions of how they were used. It was a tradition set down by the Shodaime Hokage, who consigned his entire library of non-Mokuton jutsu to a large scroll. The Nidaime Hokage had done the same, and had created the largest scroll of pure Suiton ninjutsu outside of Mist village. Not only that, but he had placed his legendary blade, Raijin, within the vault as well. And now, it was his turn. Soon, his scroll would be complete, and it would be placed among esteemed company.

Slowly, his thoughts began to drift, and he smiled as the faces of his deceased teachers flashed before his eyes. He gazed up at his two sensei and smiled. '_I'm done,' _he told them quietly. '_I've passed on the will of fire. And it blazes strongly.'_ His thoughts turned to the Yondaime Hokage, who had taken up office a mere six months ago. So young, and yet so talented, that blonde ninja was a terror to his foes and a boon to his allies. Such a genius had not been seen since… He scowled. Orochimaru. _Damn _that boy. What had he wanted? Immortality? Didn't he realize that death was the final gift that mankind had, and the greatest? He thought of living forever, of moving from one body to another like some sort of parasite, and shuddered. No, he would take death over an existence like that, thank you very much.

He sighed and sat up straight, pulling the pipe from his mouth. He hated thinking of Orochimaru; it always ruined his good mood. Heaving himself to his feet, he held his pipe over a small plate and tapped its side with his finger, shaking the ash from it. Setting the pipe down on the plate as well, he turned and strode slowly to his desk, wincing a little as his aching joints protested the movement. Groping for the chair, he sat down and seized the scroll, setting it gently on his lap. It was open and ready, the blank paper beckoning. Rummaging quickly through his desk, he found a small brush and an inkwell, and was soon ready for work. Dipping his brush into the ink, he held it poised over the paper and considered which jutsu to write about this time. He smiled as his mind fell on an old-time favorite of his: Doryuu Heki. The old, reliable earth wall. That had saved his ass so many times…

He was lost in a sea of memories for a moment, but was brought back to reality when his ink began to drip. Hurriedly dipping his brush again, he set the tip of it lightly against the paper and began to write, drawing the brush gently across the paper with smooth strokes, making intricate symbols with the ease of a master. It wasn't long before he had the name and description down, and he had just started working on the required hand seals when…

"Old man! You in there? Hey, Grandpa, open the damn door!" The sudden racket from outside his door caused him to lose his concentration, and the brush made a faulty stroke. He glanced ruefully at the marred symbol and quickly grabbed some blotting paper, casting a rather angry glare at the door.

"What? Go away, I'm not in the mood for visitors!" He turned his attention back to his scroll, busily trying to remove his mistake. Then, something in the back of his mind screamed at him. The man had said 'Grandpa'… only one man had ever called him Grandpa. "Arashi? Is that you?"

"Yes! It's me! Now, please, for the love of Kami, open the door!" Sarutobi quickly set his scroll and such aside, jumping quickly to his feet. If Arashi was worked up, it must be something dreadfully important. He ran to the door and opened it, letting in a blonde hurricane. Or, so it seemed. The hurricane was, in actuality, a tall, blonde-haired ninja, who looked like the devil himself was after him.

"Sweet Kami, what happened?" Arashi, panting heavily, shook his head for a moment, trying to regain his breath. Sarutobi guided him to the desk chair and had him sat down, taking the cushioned one for himself. After all, an old man was allowed a little selfishness, was he not? As Kazama Arashi got his wind back, Sarutobi looked him over. He was a sight to see, his spiky hair even wilder than normal, and his attire was dirty and sweaty. His famous white coat was nowhere to be seen, and Sarutobi wondered what had happened to get the Yondaime Hokage out here in such disarray. But, he was forced to cut his ponderings short, as Arashi was now recovered.

"Grandpa... this is terrible. I heard talk, but I didn't believe, and then I went to look for myself, and I saw it. Sweet Kami, I saw it with my own eyes. I never thought…" His voice trailed off as Sarutobi raised a hand, taking command of the situation. The nonplussed Hokage gazed with horrorstruck eyes at his predecessor, who, for a moment, seemed to be the warrior of his youth once more.

"Arashi. Get a hold of yourself, boy." Arashi sighed and drew himself straight, his back as stiff as a poker. He shut his eyes for a moment and breathed out slowly, driving the shock away. Then, he opened his eyes, and they seemed to burn with an azure flame. Sarutobi nodded in approval; this was why the boy was Hokage. Strength in times of terror showed his mettle, and gave strength to those around him. "Now, tell me what you saw."

The blond Hokage took a deep breath, staring the older man dead in the eyes. "The Kyuubi no Yoko. It crossed the border of Fire Country a day ago."

Sarutobi's eyes widened, and he felt the terror that had so recently struck Arashi. The Kyuubi no Yoko? The legendary nine-tailed fox? The lord of the tailed demons, with the power to crush a mountain or raise a tsunami? For a moment, he didn't believe it. After all, it seemed impossible! For one of the Bijuu to make an appearance after all this time, when they were all either dormant or sealed away… But, no. He had to believe it. He drove the fear away and met Arashi's gaze, once more in control of himself.

"I see. Anything else you want to tell me?" At first, Arashi didn't meet his eyes, gazing instead at the floor. Then, his voice a low murmur, he finally spoke.

"It's coming here. Before this week is out, we will be under attack from one of the greater demons."

Sarutobi gasped despite himself. "Kami help us."

Arashi nodded and stood to his feet, a ghost of his usual devil-may-care grin dancing on his lips. "Sandaime Hokage-sama. Will you come out of retirement one last time?" He stretched his hand out to the old man, who hesitated. Then, as he remembered the words of the first Hokage, Sarutobi flung his hesitancy to the winds and seized Arashi's hand. Arashi, smiling, pulled him to his feet. Sarutobi squared his shoulders and nodded at his successor, seeing once more the strength of character that had prompted his choice. _'This young man is destined for great things…' _He thought to himself.

"I will." Arashi gave him another grin and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Good. Now, let's get going. We've got a little party to plan…"

"Hokage-sama, the latest reports are in!" Arashi waved the eager Chuunin in, yawning as he did so. As the stack of paper was slammed onto his desk, he grabbed the topmost sheet and glanced at it, trying to focus his sleepy mind on the task at hand. He groaned as he read it, since the news was not at all good. It had been two days since he had convinced Sarutobi to come out of retirement, and three days since Kyuubi had first crossed the border. That means that they had three days, maybe four before the Kyuubi arrived. And, according to this latest report, their latest plan of action, which was to find a way to poison Kyuubi, had failed miserably.

At Arashi's insistence, Sarutobi had for Tsunade, the legendary Slug Princess. Luckily, she had been gambling in the area, and had made it to Konoha just the day before. Arashi immediately asked her to concoct several of her famous poisons, especially whatever she had with exceptionally debilitating and severe effects. She had agreed, mainly because Sarutobi had convinced her, and soon Arashi had seven samples, each of them with Tsunade's own stamp of approval. He had sent that off with the initial assault group this morning, and now he found out that none of them had the slightest affect on the great beast. If it came down to it, he may just have to use… "it". He groaned again, and leaned forward until his head rested against the flat surface of the table, thinking '_It sucks to be me right now.'_

Sarutobi glanced at his successor, noting the dark circles under his eyes. As far as the Sandaime knew, Arashi had been up for at least forty-eight hours, and it was clearly doing him no good. Sarutobi knew too well the dangers in staying awake too long, no matter how important the work was. One had to sleep, or risk losing the mental acuity required to adequately deal with the situation at hand. It was with this in mind that he reached across the table and laid a wrinkled hand on Arashi's shoulder.

"Hokage-dono…" Arashi raised his head and looked blearily at the old man, fighting back another yawn. Wrinkling his nose in distaste for the formal title, he brushed away Sarutobi's hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up, I'm up…" Sarutobi shook his head.

"That's the problem. You haven't slept in two days." Arashi simply stared at him blankly.

"And… your point is?" Sarutobi groaned, muttering despondently about the 'younger generation'.

"The point is that you need to sleep. Go, now, and get some shut-eye." Arashi shook his head, yawning again.

"Nope. Won't do it. You can't make me. Got loads of work to… to do…" His sentence trailing off, he wearily seized another sheet of paper and tried to read it over, his eyes blinking rapidly in effort to stay awake. Sarutobi sighed, realizing that Arashi would not give in. Very well. Time to pull in the big guns. He nodded to a mysterious figure, who was leaning casually against the doorway, and then carefully inserted earplugs.

"BEHOLD! THE TOAD HERMIT, JIRAIYA-SAMA, IS HERE! GAZE IN WONDER AT THE NINJA WHO CAN DEFEAT ANY FOE! BLUSH IN ENVY AT THE MAN WHO CAN PLEASURE ANY WOMAN! BOW IN WORSHIP BEFORE THE GREAT HOKAGE-TRAINER! JIRAIYA!" White hair waving wildly, he swung his head about in circles, with legs parted and feet planted. With one hand raised to the heavens and the other extended in benediction, Jiraiya, the legendary Sannin, entered the room.

He gave a wink at his former sensei, who was reinforcing the earplugs with his hands, and turned towards his former student. Arashi, who just a moment before had been struggling with sleep, was now looking as if someone had just pumped forty gallons of caffeine into him. His blonde hair stood on end, his eyes were wide open, and his mouth was gaping. With his arm trembling, Arashi raised a hand to his chest and clutched at his heart, feeling the rapid beat within his chest. Jiraiya raised his eyebrows and began roaring in laughter, his guffaws making the Sandaime glad he had kept his earplugs in. Finally, once he was done laughing, he grinned at the still frozen Arashi.

"Oh? What's this? My little student's all grown up and Hokage, but he still shakes with fear around me, eh?" Jiraiya squared his shoulders and began flexing, gazing in admiration at himself. "Well, it's only natural to be intimidated by such beauty, such power! Have no fear, my little student, I shall not harm you!" For good measure, he whipped his head around again, his long and spiky white hair making another arc through the air.

Finally, Arashi seemed to have recovered enough to speak. "You… You…" Jiraiya gasped in mock astonishment.

"What's this? The child speaketh? What words of wisdom will he-"

"NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!" Arashi jumped to his feet and strode towards Jiraiya, arm outstretched and finger pointing. "I swear to Kami-sama, if you ever, EVER do that again, I will take your precious telescope, RAM it down your throat, make you shit it out, and then force it up the other way! GOT IT, ERO-SENSEI?!" By now, he was standing directly in front of Jiraiya, and his pointing finger was now poking his sensei's chest in a rather threatening fashion.

Jiraiya grinned and clasped his hands together, putting an innocent look on his face. "Huh? Do what again? I didn't do anything! No sir, not little ol' me." Arashi groaned and walked back over to his chair, collapsing into it.

"Dear Kami-sama, Jiraiya, that nearly gave me a heart attack. Just… don't… okay?" Jiraiya nodded slowly, just now taking in his student's appearance. His eyes narrowed as he noted the greasy hair, the lidded eyes.

"Arashi… When was the last time you slept?" Arashi was about to answer, but Sarutobi beat him to the punch, having taken out his earplugs just in time to hear the question.

"He hasn't slept in two full days, Jiraiya. Help me convince him to get some sleep, will you?" Jiraiya nodded slowly at Sarutobi then examined Arashi again, anger starting to show in his eyes.

"Arashi." The Yondaime turned his attention to his former sensei, tired eyes meeting angry ones. "Check your fly." Arashi gasped and slammed his hand over his crotch, trying to zip it up. Unfortunately, he was wearing the Jounin standard gear, and those pants didn't even have a zipper. Jiraiya nodded; Arashi was _definitely _out of it. He crossed the room and grabbed Arashi's arm, dragging him out of the chair. "Alright, Goldilocks, it's beddy-bye time. Say goodnight to Grandpa Monkey." He seized Arashi's free hand and waved it at Sarutobi, who gave him a wry grin.

"But… I'm… I'm not… sleepy…" Arashi's feeble protests were punctuated by yawns, which effectively erased his chances of being heard. Jiraiya led him out to the doorway and motioned to both of the Chuunin guards.

"You two." They saluted quickly, and he jabbed his head at Arashi. "Take the blonde wonder boy here and bring him to the hospital. Put him under Tsunade's care, and tell her that he needs to stay in bed." They nodded and grabbed the Yondaime Hokage, who started to complain. They looked nervously at Jiraiya, who merely smiled. "He just hates losing. Ignore what he says. If he threatens either of you, just let me know. Oh, and by the way. Tell Tsunade that if he _doesn't _stay in bed, I send out those photos I took of her twenty-first birthday party." The two Chuunin gaped at him, and he gave them a playful wink. "Just make sure to tell her." They nodded and left, Hokage in tow.

"Do I want to know?" Jiraiya chuckled at Sarutobi's question and went back into the room, taking the seat Arashi had just vacated.

"Nah, I'm making it up. I don't have any photos, but she'll _think _I do. That, my wrinkled old sensei, is what we youngsters call 'messing with her head'." Sarutobi chuckled, not just at the joke, but at Jiraiya's interesting choice of words.

"Hah, 'wrinkled old sensei', am I? I could still take you to school, Jiraiya, and don't you forget it!" Jiraiya laughed, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Okay, okay, fine. You win." His eye fell on one of the many papers that littered the table they were sharing. He grabbed a sheet and picked it up, reading it over. His eyes narrowed as he digested the information it held. "So. It's true, then. The Kyuubi actually is going to attack."

Sarutobi sighed sorrowfully. "Almost certainly. Oh, there's the off chance that he won't, but at this point, it's simply not going to happen. Here, take a look at this." He grabbed a paper and tossed it at Jiraiya, who caught it without bothering to look. He brought his eyes to bear and examined it closely. It was a map, detailing the land of Fire, and there were markings on it that symbolized the Kyuubi's path. Jiraiya's eyes widened in astonishment.

"It's traveling in a straight line? Why would it be coming straight for us?" Sarutobi only shook his head.

"I don't have a clue. It just suddenly appeared, after being dormant for centuries, and started heading directly here." Jiraiya tossed the map away, focusing all his attention on his sensei.

"How do you know it's after us? Maybe it's going for something else?..." His question died away as Sarutobi shook his head again.

"No, that's impossible. There's nothing else in this area, and this area is most definitely where it's heading. No, it's after us, alright."

Jiraiya frowned and glared at the papers on the desk in front of him. He saw reports of every conceivable kind: mission reports, village status, supply levels, Shiki Fuujin, Kyuubi positioning, nin… _'Wait a minute. Shiki Fuujin?' _Jiraiya quickly seized the paper, whose title had caught his eye. He glanced it over and his eyes widened in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing.

"Saru-sensei!" The man in question was perusing through another report at the moment, and merely grunted an acknowledgement. "What does 'Shiki Fuujin' mean to you?" Sarutobi jumped, and stared at Jiraiya with a look of shock. His face was pale, and Jiraiya looked completely unmanned at this sudden change of expression.

"Shiki Fuujin? Jiraiya, wherever did you hear of such a thing?" For a moment, Jiraiya couldn't say anything, seeing once more the sensei that he remembered from long ago. Then he came to his senses and gave Sarutobi the paper he had seen. The Sandaime seized it from him and gazed at it intently, his expression growing horrified. "No… This is… But… Why?..." His voice trailed away in astonishment, and Jiraiya found himself terrified and excited at the same time, his mood affected by his sensei's.

"What? What is it?" Sarutobi regained his composure and slumped back into his seat, his eyes still on the paper.

"The Shiki Fuujin was a seal developed by the Shodaime Hokage, but it was left uncompleted and was never meant to be used, except as a last resort. It is classified as an S-Rank kinjutsu, and as such is forbidden to even learn." Jiraiya looked stunned by this sudden development.

"But… what does it do?" Sarutobi let the paper fall from his hands and clutched at his brow, feeling his age.

"It is a contract. A summoning contract. With it one can summon a force that no one can withstand." Jiraiya leaned forward, only one thing on his mind.

"What does it summon?" Sarutobi sighed.

"Death itself." Jiraiya leaned back in shock, his face paling. Sarutobi continued, his voice dead and monotone. "This is a contract with the Shinigami, the God of Death. Once summoned, he will devour the souls of your enemies, but at a terrible price. In return, you must allow him to eat your own soul as well. And those who are eaten by the Shinigami are forbidden from going to heaven or hell. They are trapped forever in mindless torment in the Shinigami's belly, eternally lost. It is the ultimate jutsu, for which you must pay the ultimate price." Jiraiya was completely silent, letting the implications of this wash over him.

"But… you said it was incomplete, right? So, no one can use it, right?" The Third Hokage nodded, but a frown marred his features.

"Well, yes, there is that. But, look on the page, next to the name." Jiraiya took the sheet and examined it once again, reading the short list quickly.

"Eh? Hand seals? But, there's only nine of them! Surely you need more seals than that, or you'd never have any control over the jutsu!" Sarutobi shook his head somberly.

"You don't understand, Jiraiya. It's a _summoning _contract. Your standard Kuchiyose no Jutsu requires a mere five hand seals, does it not?" Understanding dawned in Jiraiya's eyes, and he examined the paper with renewed vigor. But Sarutobi wasn't finished just yet. "Unfortunately, the last time I saw that jutsu, it had no hand seals. The Shodaime hadn't gotten past the initial contract before he abandoned it." Jiraiya glanced at his sensei in confusion, then realized what his sensei was getting at.

"You mean…" Sarutobi nodded, and Jiraiya's face grew angry. "Dammit, that fool's been experimenting! Why didn't he tell us? And why the hell did he choose this jutsu, of all things! Damn it to hell, the boy just can't keep his paws off things that should be left alone!" Jiraiya rose to his feet, cracking his knuckles. "I'll be back soon, Saru-sensei. I've just got a little business to take care of."

The Sandaime laughed and waved him back into his seat. "Jiraiya, beating him to death won't solve the problem, you know that as well as I. Besides, I have little desire to be the Hokage again, and I'd have to take the position if the Fourth died." As the toad hermit regained his seat, Sarutobi leaned forward, his face grave once more. "However… It is true that he is messing with things that ought to be left alone…" Jiraiya nodded, and seized the sheet of paper once more, turning it over and over in frustration.

"So… what do we do? Do we stop him?" Sarutobi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two wrinkled fingers.

"No, no, let him sleep for now. But, once he awakes, I think he owes us a little chat, don't you think so?" Jiraiya grinned and nodded, catching his sensei's drift. Then, the two middle-aged men, one wise and one perverted, began to wade through the sea of reports one at a time, searching for any information of use.

"WHAT!" The shout rang through the hospital, stopping patients and doctors alike in their tracks. "IMPOSSIBLE!" As the second yell shook the windows, the more intelligent doctors stole away quietly, knowing the source of that terrible voice. Thus, luckily for them, they were at a safe distance when Tsunade, the famous Slug Princess, barreled through the doorway, two babbling Chuunin in tow. The legendary sucker looked about for a moment, before her eyes fell on room 206. She rushed towards it and slammed open the door, screaming a single word: "ARASHI!"

Her brown eyes scanned the room quickly before alighting on a certain bed. She let out a strangled sound of disbelief and dashed to it, her eyes wide in astonishment. There, where just a minute ago had laid a blissfully snoring Kazama Arashi, was a small doll, resting against the pillow. She reached down and picked up the thing with trembling hands, examining it. It was a well-made doll, which beautifully depicted a certain blonde Hokage flashing the victory sign, mouth quirked and tongue protruding in a decidedly gloating manner. And written on its chest, in flowing script, were these simple words: FOOLED YOU, SUCKERS!

Tsunade let out an animalistic growl and slowly closed her fist about the doll, which was crushed under her mighty grip. Her teeth grinding, she rounded on the two Chuunin, who were trembling in fear. She thrust the remnants of the doll towards them and growled again, too angry to speak. One of the Chuunin whimpered and cringed away, and the room was suddenly filled with the stench of a little… 'accident' in his pants. Tsunade threw him a look of disgust and strode past them, carefully walking around the small puddle on the floor.

Once she was out of the room, she slammed the door shut and breathed heavily, her eyes filled with anger. Dammit, that cocky bastard! The nerve of him, playing games like that on the likes of her, the legendary Tsunade! Fine. If he wanted to play games, _she would play games_. She turned away from the wall and raised a hand to her lips, biting her thumb. Ignoring the pain from her wounded digit, she swiped the blood across her hand and flashed through five hand seals, ending with Rat.

"Kuchiyose no Jutsu!" As she shouted those words, she slammed her bloody palm into the hospital floor. In a puff of white smoke, a small purple snail appeared, quivering strangely. She grinned and set her palm on the floor next to it, letting it climb up into her hand. As it wiggled and squirmed in her palm, she smiled grimly. This little slug was one of the more useful of his kind, possessing the unique traits of being able to identify and track a specific chakra source. And, thanks to the fact that each persons aura was unique, this little guy would track down the Yondaime for her.

She grabbed the crushed doll from where it lay on the floor and presented it to the slug, letting the purple invertebrate climb over it. It coated the doll in slime, and then absorbed the slick substance back into its body, no longer quivering. She grinned evilly; good, it had the taste of it. She set the slug back on the ground and watched as it seemed to jump and then glide across the floor at an astonishing pace. She had to jog to keep up with it, and several times she nearly lost sight of it when they rounded corners. As the odd duo sped through the halls, doctors and patients alike leapt with remarkable agility out of the way, evoking accidents throughout the hospital.

Finally, the slug slowed to a crawl, and then came to a stop outside of a plain door, bumping its purple head against the wooden portal. Tsunade came to a stop beside him, panting heavily but still grinning. _'Hah, looks like the blonde brat is trapped, now! That's a broom closet!'_ She smirked as she thought to herself, knowing that Arashi's doom was nigh.

"Hey, get out of there, you little blonde bastard! I'm gonna kick your sorry ass!" She paused for a moment, waiting for a reply of some kind, but there was none. "I meant it! Get your ass out here!" Crickets chirped loudly, filling the silence. "NOW!" Again, not a peep from within the closet. Finally, Tsunade had had enough. Cracking her knuckles, she reared back and slammed her fist into the door, disintegrating it into a shower of wooden splinters. She took a step forward and slammed her fist into Arashi's face, driving the blonde Hokage against the wall.

As the blonde body hit the wall and slid slowly down it, she grinned and twisted her neck from side to side filling the small room with the sound of popping joints. "It's time for supper, Arashi-kun!" She spoke sweetly, honey dripping from her words like poison. "What would you like? A knuckle sandwich, perhaps? It comes with a free helping of whoop-ass, fresh from the can." She strode arrogantly over to the blonde man, watching him go limp with terror. She laughed as she… Wait a moment. He's far _too _limp to be living. Tsunade gasped in horror and knelt beside the man, who was sprawled face-down on the floor. She nudged his arm with a foot, and it moved with no resistance. She gasped again and backed away, blood draining from her face. She thought frantically, _'Oh, no! I've killed the Fourth Hokage! Oh, Kami, what do I do now!'_

She knelt on the floor and felt tears pooling in her eyes, dripping out onto the floor. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her loved ones, her precious Nawaki, and her lover, Dan. She saw their dead faces pass before her eyes and felt the bile rise in her throat. Had she killed again? Had she stood by helplessly as yet another man died, blood soaking her useless hands? She shook her head and crawled forward towards the corpse, green chakra enveloping her hands. No, she would save him! He couldn't be dead yet, merely unconscious! Yes, that's it! Unconscious! Not dead at all, oh no! She giggled a little hysterically and grabbed his shoulders roughly, turning him over. As he flipped onto his back, blood drained from her face once more, and her jaw went slack in astonishment.

She had slain a scarecrow. There, lying on the ground in Arashi's clothes, was a straw man. On his head was a blonde, spiky wig, and on his face was scribbled the facsimile of a grinning face, with a little chibi version of Arashi sketched onto its stomach. She felt her fear and sorrow drain away, quickly replaced by immeasurable rage. She threw her head back and roared out in fury, "ARASHIIIIII!!!"

Just down the hallway from her, the object of her fury chuckled softly, pleased to see that his prank had worked so well. He got up and lazily stretched his legs, working the kinks out of his body, before turning and striding down the hallway. Before long, he was outside, and he grinned as he felt the sun beat down on him. But, now was no time to be enjoying the sunlight; he had a jutsu to learn, and a seal to modify.

Calmly he leaned against the wall of the hospital, closing his eyes to increase his concentration. Then, casting his chakra about in a wide field, he found what he was looking for. Searching for the correct distortion in the chakra, he latched onto it and concentrated, summoning his chakra into effect. Suddenly, there was an instant sensation of movement, and a blinding flash of yellow light, and he was gone.

On the far side of the village, deep in the civilian district of the ninja village, was a large, but dilapidated apartment building. It was an old structure, and was in very poor shape; the sides of it bore graffiti and many of the windows were cracked, not to mention the condition of the paint job. But, as poor and broken down as the outside of it looked, it was one of the best buildings in Konoha. Why, you ask? Because this building has been the home of many a famous ninja, those who were too frugal, or sometimes too stupid, to get a better abode. One such ninja was the Yondaime Hokage, who was currently gazing at it with a fond look in his eyes.

A lopsided smirk graced his lips as his azure orbs flicked to and fro, examining every inch of the building. Yes, there were the nicks in the wall from his first set of kunai. And there, just under that broken window, were the monograms he and his best friend, Sakaki, had carved into the plaster. Turning himself about, he gazed in nostalgia at the large tree that grew in one corner of the yard, remembering the time one of the Inuzuka's dogs had chased him up it. He shook his head in fond remembrance; those were good times. Good times.

Blinking a few times, he derailed his trip down Memory Lane and got his mind back on track. Turning about, he strode purposefully towards the battered wooden door, stopping for a moment in front of it. He glared at it for a moment, wondering just what the hell he was doing. He was a _ninja_, for Kami's sake, and he was damned if he would climb the stairs like some civilian! Turning away from the door, he gathered chakra to the soles of his feet and jumped, planting his feet on the wall. Grinning slightly, he strode nonchalantly up the wall, hands in his pockets. Soon, he had reached the top floor, and he examined the windows quickly. No, not that one. No. It couldn't be that one. Ah! He smirked in triumph, having finally found the correct window. Using all of his considerable skill, he crept up to the window and crouched against the wall, peering inside.

At first, he was distracted. The sheer majesty of his room nearly bowled him over, since the walls and ceiling were painted orange. Not just any orange, but so-bright-it's-like-looking-into-a-goddamn-searchlight orange. However, once one's eyes adjusted to the sheer luminosity of the color, one could see, swirling beautifully through the orange, delicate black spirals, which looped and curled throughout the entire room. But, as awe-inspiring as it was to Arashi, his gaze was directed at his futon. Or, more specifically, the person currently using it as a bed.

With the ease of long years of practice, he quickly jimmied the catch of the window and opened it just enough, so he could squeeze his lithe body through the opening. Once he was inside, legs and all, he softly closed the window and stood up, brushing the dust off his pants. But his eyes had never left the sleeping occupant of the room, and now he softly stole up to the futon, gazing down at her. For, indeed, it was a her, her eyes closed in deep slumber. Almost worshipfully, the Fourth knelt down next to her and stared at her, his eyes wide open and scanning, as if to memorize every curve of her body.

And he was justified in his choice. The woman looked to be of some twenty years old, with long red hair that fanned beatifically over her shoulders. Her body was smooth and her skin was soft, yet she was also nicely tanned, and wiry muscles could be seen outlined in her arms and legs. But, it was her face that really struck Arashi speechless. He loved the slope of her nose, the graceful curve of her jaw, the way she wrinkled her nose as she inhaled, the way her ears twitched every so often, the way she was glaring at him… He frowned and played back that last comment. Then, a realization struck him the same time as her fist, and he flew back and landed rather roughly on his ass.

"Hey, blondie! Stop staring at me when I'm trying to sleep!" He felt his bruised jaw and gave her a stupid grin, causing her to snort in amusement.

"My bad, my dearest Kara-chan! I was just lost in the beauty that is you, drowning in the sea of my love for you! I was overflowing with such feelin-" His speech was cut short by a well-aimed blanket, which coiled about his face like some sort of squid made of cloth.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever! Just shut up already, ya damn moron!" She yawned and muttered grumpily to herself about blonde idiots, and managed to get herself into a sitting position. For a long moment, Yomue Karada simply sat and watched the greatest shinobi of their time match wits against a blanket, and was amused by the fact that he seemed to be losing. After stretching her tired arms and legs, she got up and walked slowly over to him. Once she was next to him, he ceased his struggles, and the blanket-covered head turned in her direction, taking on a rather pleading air. She sighed and seized the top of the blanket, yanking it off him in a single, vicious pull.

Now free from his prison of fabric, Arashi turned his gaze back to her and gazed at her with adoring eyes. "Ah, my sweet Kara-chan! As always, your gentle touch has set me free from the darkest of dungeons, liberated me from the bondage of my despair!"

She sighed and stalked back to the futon, sitting on it heavily. "The only thing I freed around here was your spiky head from a goddamn blanket. Keep talking, and I may just 'liberate' your balls, got it?" Arashi, after a momentary flicker of nervousness, displayed that courage that he was renowned for.

"Oh! That sweet, gentle voice! Speak once again, my crimson-haired angel, and fill my world with beauty and birdsong!" He leaned towards her, cupping a hand to his ear as if to hear better. Karada snorted, leaning lazily against the futon.

"How about I fill your world with _pain_, instead? That's much more fun!" Arashi's worshipful look faded away, replaced by a look of genuine affection.

"Maybe for you, Kara-chan, but I don't think it's all it's cracked up to be, personally." His voice, no longer melodramatic and forceful, was now quiet and calm. He up and strode over to the futon, sitting himself beside her. She glanced at him with a smirk and leaned into his shoulder, allowing him to put his arm about her.

"Bah, you're no fun. I bet that brat Ebisu wouldn't mind." Arashi chuckled, thinking of his perverted subordinate. Although he was a gifted Chuunin, Ebisu had made the tactical blunder of ogling Karada's assets. That was a mistake, as he was soon introduced to her knuckles in a rather painful manner.

"That, my dear, is because he'd already be unconscious from the nosebleed." She chuckled, snuggling closer to him.

"Yeah, you're right. So, care to tell me just where the hell you've been the past couple of days?" Arashi flinched and loosened his hold a little, causing her to glance up at him in concern.

"I've been going over reports." She frowned at this answer, obviously confused.

"Reports? Since when have those kept you out for two days in a row?" Arashi looked at her, now even more confused.

"Huh? You mean you don't know? Where have you been the past few days?" She stared at him, her eyes wide and a little frightened.

"I've been here, gorging myself on ice-cream and the like. Oh, by the way, you need to restock." Arashi nodded, accepting Karada's appetite as a force of nature in its size and force.

"Okay, but that's not important right now. Listen." He told her of the sighting of the Kyuubi, and all the reports he had received on its progress. He told her of Sarutobi coming out of retirement to help him, and the recent arrival of Jiraiya. And, through it all, her trained shinobi mind calmly digested and considered all these facts with careful ease. Once he had finished, she nodded slowly, going over all the pertinent facts in her head.

"Hmm… The Kyuubi no Yoko… After all these years, why has it come now? And at a time like this, when you're still fresh in the office?" Arashi shook his head.

"Not a clue. The world may never know. But, now that I've satisfied your curiosity, how about sating mine? How's the kid?" She glanced at him in confusion, not understanding the question at first. Then, she blushed and laid a hand on her stomach, which was swollen and bloated.

"He's fine. Tsunade came by and took a look a couple of days ago, when she first came to town." Arashi smiled, happy to hear the news. On impulse, he reached over and poked her stomach gingerly with his index finger, provoking a little yelp from Karada. "Hey, don't poke me, jackass!" He chuckled and withdrew his finger, wrapping his hand around one of hers.

"Sorry. It's just hard to believe it, sometimes. I mean, my kid is in there, no doubt already planning to kick ass and take names. It's just so… mind-boggling, I guess. Damn… can the world stand two of me?" She chuckled and pulled her hand away, using it to give him a small noogie.

"Whatever, blondie. Deflate that ego of yours, or I'll use a kunai and do it myself. Besides, he's my kid too, remember." Arashi made a little scoff of disbelief.

"Psh, yeah, right. We both know that he's gonna be exactly like me. After all, you couldn't have him without me, could you?"

"Oh, wanna bet, buster? If you're gonna be like that, than you get to sleep on the couch tonight!"

"Ah HAH! We both sleep on the couch, anyways!"

"Fine, then, you can sleep on the floor!"

"Not likely! Remember, my dearest love, this is my apartment! Got the deed and everything."

"Heh, maybe it _was_. I've taken over!"

"You can't do that!"

"WATCH ME, DIPSHIT!"

Arashi, sensing that he would lose yet another deep philosophical argument, used his weapon of last resort. Turning towards his girlfriend, he pouted his lips and gazed deep into her eyes, his own azure orbs wide and twinkling with unshed tears. In short: 'puppy dog eyes, Arashi style'.

She tried to hold her ground, to stand strong, to screw her eyes shut and look away. But the lure of the eyes were just too strong, and she felt her will give way. Her shoulders slumping in defeat, she bowed her head and acknowledged his victory. After a quick crow of triumph, Arashi swooped down and raised her head, planting a passionate kiss on her lips. A long, long moment later, they separated and grinned at each other, before she once more relaxed into his arms.

As the Yondaime Hokage sat with his loved one, he remembered the time he had first laid eyes on her. He had first met her over a year ago, back after Kakashi had become Jounin, and Obito had passed away. Rin had left to join the medic corps, and Arashi was told that he was chosen to be the next Hokage. He had protested the choice, but Sarutobi had insisted, and had also demanded a bodyguard for Arashi until after the inauguration. Arashi had argued, and had managed to push it down from a full platoon of ANBU to merely one bodyguard. Sarutobi had obviously foreseen this discussion, for he had already picked out the lone bodyguard.

Now, as Arashi looked back, it was obvious the old man had been playing matchmaker. But, at the time, he had been so damn annoyed at having a bodyguard that he barely noticed the attractive ANBU captain that stood before him. He had, once again, insisted that he needed no bodyguard, but Sarutobi had drawn the line, dismissing him. For the next month, he went nowhere without his bodyguard. When he tried to escape her, she would invariably find him again. Over time, he developed an admiration for her tracking ability, and this soon turned into a physical attraction. After the first month had passed, he finally began to speak to her, getting to know her.

He chuckled as he thought of how she had reacted. At first, she was stiff and formal, treating the Hokage-to-be with nothing but respect. But, over time, he had finally convinced her that formality was not an issue with him, and she began to be herself. He soon learned that she was haughty, coarse, rude, and extremely intolerant of perverts in any form. He had also learned that he loved her for those same faults.

Before the next month was out, they were actively dating, masking their relationship with her usual role of bodyguard. The only ones who noticed anything out of the ordinary were those close to Arashi, such as Sarutobi, Jiraiya, and Kakashi. Jiraiya had even gone so far as to ask them if they had done 'it', with a knowing wink and a friendly nudge. Of course, Karada had returned the favor with a little nudge of her own, giving the perverted hermit a beautiful black eye. But, despite the interruptions of his sensei, they grew closer and closer. Before two months were out, they were desperately in love, and Sarutobi chuckled in semi-perverted triumph every time he saw them. That is, until that fateful day.

Apparently, news of the Sandaime's choice had leaked, due to the carelessness of some unknown ANBU. All Arashi knew is that the ambush came out of nowhere, when he had least expected it. They had come in the night, three Rock ninjas. They were incredibly skilled, having snuck into the village using some kind of Doton Kekkei Genkai. They had snuck into the room so quietly that Arashi had not even awoken, not until it was too late. Without warning, one of the intruders had raised a small blowgun to his lips and shot a small, poisoned dart at Arashi's sleeping form. But Karada had been awake, lying naked beside him in the bed. She had thrown herself over his body, taking the needle in the small of her back. Her scream had roused Arashi, who had seen the needle shining in the moonlight, seen the Rock ninja realize their blunder.

In a flash of yellow, it was over, and three decapitated heads were falling from severed necks, spraying dark blood across the floor. But none of that mattered to Arashi, because he had seen Karada fall to the ground, her face ashen pale and her lips parted in a silent scream. In a flash, he had gathered her up and used his trademark jutsu, appearing at Konoha General hospital in a burst of golden light. Not caring for their nakedness, he had rushed inside, where a tired Tsunade was finishing up some paperwork for the night. With a single appraising look, she had understood the problem immediately and swept the table clean of her paperwork, making room for Karada's agonized body.

It had been a quick removal, as Tsunade had been desperate to get the poison out of her system before it did any further damage. But, as she learned later, it had not been quick enough. The poison had been a particularly nasty kind, meant to ride the bloodstream into the organs and corrode them from the inside out. Luckily, he had gotten there before too much damage had been done, but the poison had still had enough time to permanently injure her lungs and heart, weakening them to the extent that she could no longer continue her career as a ninja. But the worst damage of all was in her womb; the poison had hit her ovaries with a vengeance. Tsunade had done all she could, but she had sadly told the worried Arashi that she could no longer give birth.

The next month had been terrible. Karada had recovered quickly enough, but she took the loss of her children hard, having always wanted to have a family some day. That chance had been stolen from her, and Arashi felt that it was entirely his fault. She resigned her position as a kunoichi of the village, due to the weak condition of her heart and lungs. He was going to join her, but she put her foot down, insisting that he remain a part of the shinobi world. Again, he considered her resignation to be his doing, but she had managed to convince him otherwise, and before the month was out they were mostly back to their old selves.

Then, two months later, Arashi was given some of the biggest news of his life: Karada was pregnant! Tsunade, who was getting ready to leave the village on one of her gambling runs, had inspected her and pronounced herself amazed, but overjoyed to tell them that the baby was developing nicely. Karada was positively glowing with happiness, and Arashi felt the same way, especially after the baby was developed enough for Tsunade to tell that it was a boy. The next few months were bliss for him, with occasional interruptions whenever Karada was suffering from the classic downsides of pregnancy. He winced a little in remembrance. Okay, maybe more than just _occasional _interruptions, but they made it through them in one piece. And now, nearly nine months later, she was slated to give birth in less than two weeks.

He smiled and tightened his grip on her, feeling her respond with her own loving touch. But, even as he felt happiness spread through him, he felt a blemish in it: the knowledge that she may not be alive to have the child in two weeks, the fact that they might all be dead in a week. The demon fox would have to be dealt with, and soon. There must be some way to destroy him, some way to force him to leave. Some way… He felt the constant wakefulness of the past few days taking its toll on him, and he began to drift off to sleep. He laid his head against hers, letting his blonde locks tangle with her crimson tresses, and he fell fast asleep.

Karada was deep in thought, albeit about a much different topic than her lover. She was thinking of the Kyuubi, of how to defeat it. She didn't know much about it, other than the obvious stuff, such as the fact it was a bigass fox with nine tails. But, no matter how big it was, it had to have some sort of weakness. Even if her body was weak, her mind was still as sharp as ever, and she put all of her considerable intelligence to work on this task, determined to find a way to rid their village of this nine-tailed menace. But, even as she began to think, she felt Arashi lean his head against hers, effectively distracting her from what she was doing. Not three seconds later, she heard a soft snore coming from the blonde Hokage, and she smiled softly. She decided that, since he was already asleep, she might as well join him. Cupping his cheek softly with her hand, she leaned against him and closed her eyes, letting sleep carry her away.

The night passed without incident, and the following morning Arashi woke to find himself on the futon, side by side with his lover. Slowly disentangling himself from her still sleeping form, he got up and strode softly to the bathroom door. Opening it with a minimum of noise, he ensconced himself within the sanctuary and slid the door shut, flicking on the lights. The lights buzzed loudly with the trademark hum of fluorescent lights just turning on, and winced as the noise assailed his sensitive ears. It died away quickly, but not quick enough for Arashi, who was afraid the 'loud noise' had awakened the sleeping Karada. Luckily for him, not a peep came from the neighboring room, and he allowed himself a brief sigh of relief. After all, even though he loved Karada with all he had, she was a holy terror when roused.

Turning towards a mirror that covered half of a wall, he glanced in frustration at his hair. The accumulation of several days of grease had affected it in no uncertain fashion, and the tips of his blonde spikes seemed to be as hard as kunai. He grinned, watching his mirror image copy him; it was shower time. Hastily climbing out of his clothes, he hopped into the small shower stall and flipped it on, repressing a scream as a cascade of cold water drenched him. Quickly, he turned the knob that controlled the temperature, but the damage had already been done, and he was wide awake now. As the water began to warm, he felt muscles that were sore from sleeping upright begin to relax, and he stretched out his arms and legs with every sign of enjoyment.

Soon, the water was at just the right temperature: hot, but not scalding. Seizing the soap, he began to lather it about his body, whistling a merry tune. But, as he began to apply the suds to his stomach, he paused in thought, staring strangely at his bellybutton. He realized that, unless an alternative presented itself, he would place a greater demon within some poor kid's stomach. He rubbed his belly gingerly, imagining what the seal would look like. As his thoughts turned towards the sealing and the Kyuubi, his good mood left him, and he finished the rest of his shower in a brooding silence.

Shutting off the water and letting the remaining liquid slide off him, he stepped out of the shower stall, standing on a soft rug that soaked up what water was still dripping from his body. Reaching to his left, he snagged a towel off a nearby stand and began to dry himself, rubbing his face and his hair especially. But, suddenly, he stopped, setting the towel down on the sink. He looked ahead, staring at the mirror, which was fogged by the steam from his shower. Reaching out to it, he extended an index finger and began to drag the tip of it across the mirror, sketching a rough drawing.

He drew a stick figure, first. Giving it a spiky hairdo, he grinned as he imagined himself in its place. But, then his smile fled once more, and he began another drawing. This one was far more detailed, and roughly depicted a giant fox with nine tails. Of course, the fox's body was an oval, its head a triangle, and its tails were mere wavy lines, but he was a ninja, not an artist. For a moment, he pulled his hand away, staring with sad eyes at his two figures. Then, in a quick movement, he slammed his finger into the glass and drew a spiral, dragging the curves of it through both of the figures. Staring at his destroyed creations, he turned away and staggered a few feet to his right, hands groping blindly. He finally slumped onto the seat of his toilet, which was, luckily, down; otherwise he would have received another shower.

Leaning forward, he set his head in his heads and felt the sadness wash over him. He knew it now. Well, he had known it then, too, but now he was no longer rejecting it. He was going to die, and he had no choice in the matter. He thought of his stick figures, and the spiral that had ripped through both of them. Yes, he was caught in a spiral, a whirlpool which would lead to his destruction. He would die, and the demon would be imprisoned forever. And… And… A sob ripped out of him, and his fingers dug into his skull. And his son would be the instrument of his downfall.

As that thought went through him, he couldn't hold back the flood any longer. The tears and sorrow that he had bottled away for the past few days were all breaking loose, tearing out of his body in great, heaving sobs. He felt weak and powerless, unable to defeat this demon with anything less than that terrible, terrible last resort. He would have to sacrifice his soul, and the life of his child, for the sake of a monster! All of this, because that damned fox had chosen to attack his village! It was destroying _his _life, threatening _his _village, killing _his _subordinates! It was _him _the demon was truly attacking, constantly harrying him to and fro, until the only way to save what was precious to him was to sacrifice his life.

Suddenly, the sobs stopped, and he lifted his head out of his hands with a startled look on his face. No, no! He was wrong! He was thinking about this in the wrong way! He was not the demon's true victim! It was his son, his precious child, that was the true victim. For the thousandth time, he wondered what his boy would be like, wondered if he'd love to prank, wondered if he'd be smart, wondered if he'd be an obnoxious brat like his mother or a carefree joker like his father. Arashi felt sorrow flood him again as he imagined the face of the boy he would never see, the face of the child that would carry on his name and legacy. He would never get the chance to see him grow, see him become strong, see him make his father proud. But he would never get that chance. He was robbed of it by the Kyuubi. It was stolen from him by the Kyuubi. Taken away by the Kyuubi. _Obliterated… BY THE KYUUBI!_

In an instant, his sorrow was replaced by rage, and he focused all his mind on the Kyuubi, swearing to destroy it, even if it took him a thousand years in a thousand hells. His chakra began to flare, which caught his attention, and he tried to calm himself down. Finally, after a few minutes of struggling, he managed to put a lid over his anger; but he still felt it simmering, boiling deep within him like a font of wrath. Seizing his towel once more, he ferociously dried off what liquid still remained on him and wrapped it about his waist. Opening the door, he stepped into the living room and closed it again, feeling the stare of his lover piercing deep into him.

"What's wrong?" He smiled a little, recognizing that voice. It was the voice he had grown to love; all business, yet with a touch of true caring. He turned and gave Karada a cheerful grin that did not extend to his eyes.

"Nothing, my dear Kara-chan! Why do you ask?" Turning away from her, he paced quickly over to his dresser and opened the top drawer, rummaging through the clothes within. Even as he withdrew a set of red boxers, he heard a scoff of disbelief.

"Whatever, numskull. I wasn't born yesterday, ya know. I think half the village felt that chakra flare, even though I didn't need such an obvious clue to figure it out." Arashi sighed and nodded morosely, dropping his towel and pulling on his boxers before turning to seek more attire. It would not do for the Hokage to appear in public wearing little more than a set of red boxers.

"As always, I am as transparent as glass to you." Another moment of rummaging uncovered a tank top and mesh under-armor, and he compared them side by side, wondering which one would be better.

"The tank top makes you look sexy." He chuckled at this piece of sage advice and donned the apparel, tossing the other one to the floor. But Karada was not done with him yet. "So, Mr. Glass. Care to tell me just what's bugging you?" Arashi sighed and turned away from his dresser, walking over to his closet and pulling it open.

"It's nothing, Kara. Don't worry about it, okay?" She frowned as she watched him leaf through pants, not liking the note of depression hidden in his voice.

"Arashi. Look at me." He turned towards her, his azure orbs meeting her green ones. Her voice was low and trembling, her eyes staring deep into his with incredible intensity. "Are you all right?" He bit his lip and looked away, not bearing to meet her eyes. Dammit, he hadn't wanted to tell her. Not until she was ready… but he shook his head glumly. That was foolish thinking, she wouldn't be any more ready later than she was now. He turned away again, turning his attention back to his pants.

"It's… hard to explain."

"Try. Please. It kills me to see you like this." Her entreaty broke the last of his resistance, and he gave way. Reaching blindly out and seizing a pair of pants, he fingered the soft material with his hands, struggling with his nervousness. Then, swallowing his fear, he told her.

"I… I can't kill the Kyuubi." There was a gasp of shock from behind her, but he kept going, not daring to stop when he wasn't sure he could start again. "Nothing can. He's the greatest demon to ever roam the earth, and a true immortal. No matter how much damage we do to him, no matter how much we try, he cannot die. _Cannot._ And now… now I know why…" His voice trailed away, and he swallowed again, trying to wet his dried throat.

From behind him, Karada's voice was hushed and slightly terrified. "W-Why? Why can't he die?" He sighed again, mechanically putting on his pants, buttoning and securing them with an ease developed from years of practice.

"Because… he's no regular demon. He's a force of nature." He stopped again, seizing a jounin flak jacket from where it hung and putting it on, zipping it up quickly. From behind him, the confused Karada was trying to puzzle out exactly what he meant. After a long pause, he knew she didn't understand, and elaborated. "Can you kill the wind? Can you destroy fire? No. No matter what, it lives on in one form or another. Kyuubi is the exact same way." He leaned forward and rested his head against the wall, using a hand to cushion it. "I had one of my most trusted Jounin's, Sakaki, obtain a sample of the demon's fur. He brought it back for analysis two days ago, and when we had it checked…" His voice trailed away, and Karada found herself growing more and more horrified.

"What did you find when you checked?" Arashi sighed, turning to slump against the wall with his back, still not meeting her eyes.

"His fur was like nothing we had ever seen before. It was a living fusion of elements: fire and earth. The Kyuubi's body is made from the earth itself, and we could no sooner destroy it than we could destroy the earth. As long as fire and earth remain, the Kyuubi will remain." He slowly slid down the wall, until he was squatting with all of his weight pressed against it. "Just to be sure, I sent our fastest messenger bird to Sunagakure, asking them for details on what happened when Shukaku was defeated."

He pointed at the dresser he had just been at, drawing her attention to a slim scroll that lay on its varnished surface. "They sent me everything. The way they were able to defeat the Ichibi was by driving it into the ocean. Once it was soaked by the water and greatly weakened, they were able to defeat it and seal its spirit away into a pot of some kind." He shook his head, remembering how hopeful he had been when he heard this news. As expected, Karada interrupted him, her voice filled with hope.

"So, all we have to do is use wind and water against the Kyuubi! Since he's made from earth and fire, we can use his elemental opposites to weaken him until we can seal..." But, even as her voice faded away, he was shaking his head bitterly.

"That's what I thought, at first. But then I had a look at a few geological reports from the Shodaime's time. Turns out that this country is called Fire country for a good reason. Running throughout most of this country, especially around our area, is a vast system of volcanic magma, from the time when this country was nothing more than ash and volcanoes. That supplies the Kyuubi with plenty of fire, and earth is in good supply these days, what with the ground and all." Arashi's voice was starting to get cynical, using sarcasm and satire in his speech. Karada shuddered as she heard him speak; he only spoke like this when he was super depressed, and she wasn't sure how to help him out of it.

Arashi let himself slide off the wall, landing on the floor in a sprawl. Spread-eagling himself, he closed his eyes in surrender. It was hopeless. There was no chance for them to defeat the Kyuubi. Not without… But he couldn't tell her yet. But he had to tell her. But… His thoughts were interrupted by Karada, who had swooped down on him and wrapped her arms about him. He reached up with his arms, and soon they were entwined on the floor, nose to nose, simply staring into one another's eyes.

"What can I do to help you, Arashi-kun?" The suffix made him chuckle and smile. It wasn't often that she used that term, as she was not fond of remembering that she was twenty six, whereas her blonde lover was merely twenty three. She always complained that it made her feel old, and Arashi would always reply that he would be sure to visit her in the old folk's home next year. But, even so, it remained a term of endearment that she reserved for special times, times when she was ready to lay her life down for him on his whim. Whenever he needed her the most, she was there, ready and willing to help. He felt a tear streak down his cheek, which she gently wiped away, kissing him softly on the lips.

For a long moment, he hesitated, not wanting to tell her. But, she had to know. Screwing up every ounce of courage in his body, he told her. "The only way I can defeat the Kyuubi… is to seal away his spirit. But, with a demon of this strength, no earthly seal will work against him. There is only one thing I can do, one last resort. The Shiki Fuujin." She frowned, not knowing the jutsu, but not liking the sound of the name.

"What's the Shiki Fuujin? It doesn't sound like any seal I know…" Arashi closed his eyes, sighing wearily.

"That's because it's not one that's ever been used before. The Shodaime developed the basis for it, but never completed it, deeming it too dangerous to be used, even as a last resort. But, I found it a few months ago, and I've been working on it for a while. I've finally finished it, and I'm going to use it against the Kyuubi." He stopped talking, but she frowned anxiously.

"Okay, but you still haven't answered my question. Just what does this seal do?" Arashi looked away, not daring to meet her eyes.

"It… summons the Shinigami." She gasped in horror, but he kept talking. "The God of Death will take the Kyuubi's soul from his body, which will give me a chance to seal it. Normally, it would just devour the soul, but the Kyuubi can't die, so it is unable to die that way. But, by preparing a seal to be used in conjunction with the Shiki Fuujin, I can safely seal the demon away. But…" His voice died away, and this time he wasn't able to continue speaking. But Karada had understood, and her face was pale.

"But… if you use it… you die… Am I right?" He nodded silently, unable to say a word. For a long, long moment, there was complete silence. Then, she spoke, her voice soft and trembling. "Arashi-kun. Is there no other way?" He shook his head, and she was quiet again for another long pause. Then, silent tears streaming down her face, she laid her head into his chest. "Then… it has to be done." He nodded morosely, tears trickling down his cheeks as well as he pulled her closer.

But, then a realization struck her, something she remembered from long ago. Pulling away from Arashi, she stared at him with something akin to horror in her eyes. "Wait a moment! We can't seal away a demon as powerful as the Kyuubi! We don't have a container that can hold it! Unless…" Her voice died away in a gasp, but the look of sadness in his eyes confirmed her suspicions.

"Yes. We… We have to use a person to seal him away. Not just any person, but a newborn baby." For a long moment, she processed this information. Then, abject terror shone in her eyes and she pulled away from him, her arms held protectively over the bulge in her stomach.

"You can't be… No, not him! Why does it have to be him! I won't let you! I won't…" Her protesting voice died away quickly, and her head drooped, the tears flowing freely. Arashi sat up next to her and cupped her chin, raising her head and looking her in the eye.

"There is no other way. Believe me, I have looked and looked, but there is nothing! Nothing at all!" His voice turned harsh and bitter for a moment, and then he shunted it away, becoming himself once more. But his comment only made her weep harder, and she hugged herself tightly.

"But… Why… My only child… _Our _only child… I can't lose both of you, Arashi… I just can't…" He gasped in horror, realizing what she thought.

"NO! No, no, no, no! Oh, sweet Kami, never! I'd rather die myself a thousand times over than lose him, Kara!" She stared at him with shock and hope mixed in her face.

"You mean… he won't die?" Arashi shook his head vigorously, trying to encourage that hope.

"Yes! That's right, he'll be just fine! I promise you, Kara dearest, not a hair on his undoubtedly blonde head will be harmed." She chuckled, a spark of life returning to her eyes.

"Just you wait. He'll be red-haired and beautiful, just like his mother. The world couldn't stand two people with such a terrible hair color." They smiled tearfully at one another and kissed passionately, each trying to express their love for the other. When they finally broke apart, the tears were gone from her face, and he smiled as he kissed her cheek softly.

"Thank you, my darling. I need you to be strong. After I'm gone, our little one will need his mother for strength. I know I can count on you, my crimson-haired angel." She smiled and snagged his chin with her hand, pressing her mouth hard against his. When they finally parted for air, she gave him a smile full of confidence and brash arrogance, that smile that reminded him every time he saw it why he loved her like he did.

"Of course you can. Now, you get your ass in gear and go help out the old geezer. He's probably freaking out, now that he has to deal with all the paperwork again."

"Hah, you're probably right. I'll be back soon, my love. Be well." She waved him off, and he slammed his hands together into a quick hand seal, disappearing in a flash of yellow light. After he was gone, she stood up and brushed the dust off her clothes, walking back over to the futon. Sitting herself down, she buried her head in her hands and began to cry in great, wracking sobs, letting all the pain and sadness out. Arashi was going to die, and she couldn't do anything about it. But, even though the pain from that was horrible, there was another, greater pain, that stemmed from the mighty power that is maternal love.

Remembering what Tsunade had told her, what she was too afraid to tell Arashi, her crying increased exponentially. She hated hiding something like this from him, but, even if he knew, there was nothing he could do. Sobbing, she thought of her child within her womb, wondering how he would feel if he knew what she knew. What would he say if he knew that he would soon be losing both parents?

* * *

AN: Okay, it's me again. Just going to clarify a few things. Firstly, this is, inherently, a Naruto centric fanfic, but it'll be centered around the Fourth until the time Naruto starts getting closer to twelve, or maybe when he graduates. So, for all you Naruto-lovers or Yondaime-haters, just bear with me. Naruto will take the spotlight soon enough. And, as always, remember that this is a story about what would happen with Naruto had the Fourth lived and the Third died, not a story about the Fourth. That's for a different fic, folks.

Secondly, there might be some confusion about what I did with the Shiki Fuujin. I am a little confused about it myself, so I came up with what I described in the story. The reason for my confusion is that it's specifically stated that the Yondaime made the jutsu, yet information on it is found in the scroll of the First Hokage. Anybody who knows the answer, feel free to correct me, but I don't think I'll change it. I kinda like what I made up!

Thirdly, and most importantly, this fic is not meant to be overly romantic or dramatic. I might have gotten a _wee _bit carried away with the drama stuff in the second half of this chapter, but I'm trying to accurately portray the kind of hell the Yondaime had to go through prior to actually performing the jutsu. After all, I loves me my character development.

Remember, people: please review! I'd love to hear your comments and criticisms. If you have suggestions on what the pairings for this story would be, I'd be happy to listen, but I still make the final decisions. After all, he who writeth the fic can do whatever he jolly well wants.

_Gaereth_


	2. Chapter 2

The Will of Fire

Chapter Two: From Flame to Ashes…

AN: All thanks to JohnnyG, who maketh all plots possible. I highly recommend his work.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, except for the things that I own. Unfortunately, Naruto is not one of those things. Too bad.

* * *

Arashi sighed and leaned back in his chair, worry written plainly on his fair features as he chewed on the end of a brush. Despite the particularly fine day that could be seen through his window, he felt tired and depressed, full of regrets and worries. Brushing a hand through his blonde locks, he slammed his chewed brush on the desk swiveled his chair around, intent on gazing through the many large windows in his office that overlooked Konoha. He needed to think, and the sight of Konoha often calmed him down. Hopefully his city would come through for him once more.

His face puckered up in concentration as he reviewed his facts, his azure eyes staring unfocused at the village before him. He knew that his seal process was, theoretically, perfect. Once sealed, the Kyuubi should have no possibility of escape, thanks to the power of the Shiki Fuujin. But, there was still the matter of the demonic chakra, which could cause problems if the demon still maintained control over itself. After a long morning of research, he thought he had found a way to remedy that. Thanks to the rather unique style of sealing the Hyuuga clan had helped create long ago, there was a way to not only take Kyuubi's chakra away form him, but to slowly blend it with the chakra of the vessel. In theory, this should give the… 'container' greatly enhanced stamina and chakra reserves, but still… so many uncertainties!

There was just so much that was hidden from his sight, so much that he didn't understand! How could he know that his seal would work? Better yet, how did he know that the Shiki Fuujin would do the job required of it? What if the Kyuubi killed him before he could use the seal? What if the Kyuubi arrived to early, or too late? What if…

Stopping his train of thought dead in its tracks, he firmly turned himself backed towards his desk and, with ritualistic solemnity, slammed his forehead into the tough wood of the desk. No 'What Ifs'! No more moaning, no more griping and, above all, no more _whining_! "Get a grip on yourself, blondie!" he murmured harshly to himself, adopting the nickname his perverted sensei had bestowed on him. For good measure, he banged his head against the desk again, knowing that his hard head often didn't understand the lesson the first time 'round.

He lifted his slightly bruised noggin off the hard wood, rubbing his swelling forehead tenderly. Well, it had been a little painful, but at least it had gotten him out of his funk. He noticed the badly dented spot on his desk and grinned sheepishly, shifting one of the piles of paper that littered his desk so that it covered the dent. The last thing he needed was a lecture from gramps over damaging the, in Sarutobi's words, 'priceless artifact left from the Shodaime Hokage'. Arashi, personally, had found little to be appreciated in the desk besides its durability, but arguing with the old man only got him angrier.

With a small groan, he got himself comfortable in his seat, deciding to turn his attention to the seal in question. Leaning to his left, he seized a large scroll that lay under his desk and pulled it out, setting it on his lap for closer perusal. Carefully opening it, he slowly began to unroll the scroll, his eyes scanning the paper quickly. There! Leaning forward, he examined the scroll's contents closely. The cramped handwriting was somewhat difficult to make out, but he caught the gist of it. Supposedly, by combining two or more seals of varying or equal strength, he could not only reinforce them, but could sometimes create an entirely new seal, one that incorporated the functions of the other two into itself.

Nodding as he reaffirmed his suspicions, he tossed the scroll haphazardly onto the floor and seized the brush he had put down before. Dipping it quickly into the small inkwell on his desk, he began to hurriedly brush notes onto a small scroll that lay on the desk before him, already half-covered in his messy handwriting. He wrote quickly, trying to keep a hold of the inspiration that was currently sleeting through his brain. Then, with a sigh, he put the brush back in the inkwell and examined his handiwork.

During his perusal of the large and extremely dusty library, he had unearthed a rarely used seal, the Shishou Fuuin, which was meant to control the flow of chakra inside the body of another. This had once been used as a way to limit the power of prisoners, yet not damage them irreversibly. However, the problem with that seal is that it was a mere four points, which was just too weak, and it took a hefty amount of chakra to use. In all probability, the seal wouldn't work on somebody of Kakashi's chakra level, not to mention himself. And the idea of it being able to handle the kind of chakra the Kyuubi used was laughable. No, it wouldn't be enough.

That is, unless Arashi's suspicious were correct.

However, he'd never know unless he actually used it, and to do that, he'd need a guinea pig. Where would he find someone of sufficient strength to use this on…? He smiled wickedly, and then cast a glance at Konoha's hot spring district. There was only one man he knew that had enough chakra to work as an experiment. And there was only one place that man would be on a fine, sunny day like this…

The hot spring district of Konoha is known throughout the world for its perfectly pure water, which is heated by the same network of underground magma that gave Fire Country its name. Some claimed that the hot springs were brought to the surface by the Nidaime Hokage, during an epic battle against invading forces, while others scoffed at the 'ridiculous myth', claiming that the springs where one of the major reasons for the location of the village. But, despite the cut and thrust of the controversy, Jiraiya found that he really couldn't care less about how the hot springs came about. All he cared about was the unrivalled peeping opportunity it presented to him.

As he knelt precariously at the top of a nearby building, he held a short telescope up to his eye and gazed into it, peering through the steam. Immediately, he was rewarded with a most gratifying view of the women's hot springs, and a perverted blush began to redden his cheeks. Yes, the women of Konoha were truly some of the finest he had ever seen. In his many years of life, he had traveled to many lands, and peeped on women from every known nation. Yet, no matter where he went, he found that the ladies of his home town were simply superior. He grinned as he saw a few of the girls start a game of tag, not knowing that their fun was being observed by a keen and watchful eye. Yes, this truly was his favorite peeping spot.

Without warning, he found his telescope snatched from his hands, and he blinked rapidly in confusion. "I figured you would be here, ero-sensei." Jiraiya chuckled, recognizing the voice of his favorite student.

"But of course! After all, it is my duty to make sure that the beauty of these women does not go unappreciated, is it not?" Arashi grinned and closed the telescope with a metallic _click_.

"Appreciating their beauty is one thing, but spying on them is another." Jiraiya scoffed at his student's words, seizing the telescope back and opening it with a flourish.

"Bah! You understand so little, blondie. One day, hopefully, you will gain knowledge, just as I did long ago." Turning away from his blonde student, he once more put his eye to the lens. Arashi shook his head at his sensei's enigmatic yet meaningless words, then folded his arms and smiled wickedly.

"Oh, I _understand, _all right. I also have the _knowledge _of what Tsunade's gonna do to you when I tell her that you're up to your old tricks again." Jiraiya's face paled with horror, and he turned towards his former student with a disbelieving expression.

"You wouldn't." Arashi's grin merely grew wider, a sadistic gleam in his azure eyes.

"Want to bet on that?" Jiraiya put the telescope away and stood quickly to his feet, his horrified eyes never leaving Arashi's. The blood had completely drained from Jiraiya's face, and he winced as he remembered the terrible pain Tsunade had put him through more than once.

"But she'll…" Arashi nodded cheerfully, still smiling.

"Yup." Jiraiya swallowed nervously, not at all liking the look in his student's eyes.

"You'd really…?"

"Count on it."

"How could you be so cruel?!" Arashi tilted his head, as if in thought, and then shrugged.

"Very easily." Jiraiya gaped at him, unable to believe that his student would betray him so completely.

"But… I'm your SENSEI!" The blonde Hokage raised a correcting finger.

"_Former _sensei." Jiraiya stared at his student a while longer, searching for any way out of this. But the look in Arashi's eyes made it plain that there was only one way out of this. The perverted hermit racked his brain for any ideas, any blackmail he could pull on his student. There was nothing. Realizing that surrender was the only option, he sighed and turned away, folding his arms together.

"Fine. Name your price, you yellow-haired traitor." Arashi smirked in triumph, and then got down to business.

"That's more like it. C'mon, we've got a geezer to see."

Sarutobi, tired though he was from his long day's work, found that he was unable to sleep. As he leaned back into his chair and stared at the familiar ceiling, he reviewed the day. It had been long and agonizing, going through report after report, almost all of them related to the Kyuubi and its movements. All that paperwork, which he thought he had escaped from when he left the title behind, was upon him once more, drowning him in a sea of black and white. He groaned and massaged his temples, envisioning the mound of papers that would be waiting for him the next day. Back in his day, things had been so much simpler. You sent your men out personally, and they gave you their report face to face. There was none of this blasted bureaucratic nonsense, and there was _certainly _no politics.

A loud knock on his door derailed his morbid train of thought. Grumbling for the sake of doing so, he pulled himself out of his comfortable seat, wincing as his back creaked in protest. He walked slowly over to the door and opened it, prepared to discipline whoever it was who had dared to interrupt his break. As the light from the hallway flooded into his darkly lit room, he saw it was his former pupil and the Fourth Hokage. After all, there is just no possible way to mistake those hair-styles.

"Hiya, grandpa. What's up?" Sarutobi had to forcibly restrain himself from slamming the door in the blonde Hokage's face.

"Arashi… What do you need? It's been a long day, and I'm not in the mood for company." The Fourth Hokage merely flashed him a dazzling grin, giving him a thumbs up.

"Aw, c'mon! You'll love this, trust me." Sarutobi sighed and stepped to the side, allowing his two visitors inside. He noticed that Arashi was looking rather mischievous, and Jiraiya had that characteristic pout on his face. Sarutobi snorted; looks like Jiraiya had been dragged away from the hot springs again. That wayward student of his spent all of his time there, but he couldn't blame him. The Sandaime looked towards the hot springs district with a slight blush adorning his cheeks. Nope, he couldn't blame him at all.

"So, what's all this about, Arashi-kun? Don't tell me that there's more reports to read!" The blonde Hokage merely laughed, before leaning nonchalantly against the wall.

"Far from it. No, I've got a couple of Jounin going over those now, with orders to record anything important." Sarutobi sighed in relief, but found himself curious as to the reasons behind this visit.

"Okay, so what is it?" Jiraiya, no longer pouting, quickly seized Sarutobi's seat and claimed it as his own, much to the annoyance of the chair's owner. Ignoring his sensei's glare, he voiced his agreement.

"Yeah, what did you need? I want to get back to work." The two older men shared a perverted blush while Arashi merely chuckled.

"Okay, okay. I'll get straight to it. I want to test an idea for a seal." This perked Jiraiya's interest especially, since he had made seals his specialty.

"Oh, really? And what idea would that be?"

"Well, have either of you heard of the Hakke no Fuuin Shiki?" Sarutobi nodded slowly as understanding dawned, but Jiraiya looked lost.

"Huh? Sounds kinda familiar, but I don't really remember. What is it?" Arashi glanced meaningfully at Sarutobi. After all, it was the sensei's job to teach the student. The old man sighed and turned towards Jiraiya, clearing his throat.

"Ahem. 'The Hakke no Fuuin Shiki, or the Eight Trigrams Sealing Style, is a sealing process developed by the Shodaime Hokage and members of the Hyuuga main family. Essentially, it forces seals of a low value to meld together into one seal, which greatly increases the seal's strength and efficiency. Occasionally, it can cause unforeseen effects to occur as well. The sealing process is customarily used to create a seal with eight points, often by combining two seals with four points or four seals with two points.' Ahem." He subsided and raised an eyebrow at the slightly confused expression on Jiraiya's face. Arashi, taking pity on his sensei, threw in his two cents.

"It's a way to combine two seals into one. It does cool shit." Jiraiya's expression cleared instantly, and he threw a grin at his sensei.

"Why didn't you just say so? And don't quote stuff like that; it gives me creeps." Sarutobi glared murderously at his one-time student, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Arashi merely laughed, enjoying the one-way staring match.

"Hah, what else do you expect from Konoha's 'Professor'? Anyways, let's move on." Jiraiya nodded cheerfully and leaned back comfortably in the Third's seat. It took all of Sarutobi's considerable self-control not to belt his student a good one over the head and seize his chair back, but he managed. Once both men had their full attention on Arashi once more, he continued explaining. "Well, I had an idea. There's an old seal that ain't used much anymore. It's called the Shishou Fuuin." Jiraiya nodded, knowing that jutsu well.

"That old thing? It's useful, but it's a bitch to use. All it does is restrict the chakra flow of whoever it's placed on."

Arashi nodded. "Right, that's the one. Anyways, I figured that, since it was a four point seal, we should be able to fuse two of them together using the Hakke no Fuuin Shiki. What do you guys think?" Sarutobi nodded in agreement, but Jiraiya looked unsure.

"Well," he drawled slowly, "it _should _work, but that doesn't mean that it will. You should probably experiment with it a little before using it, just to make sure." Arashi let a mischievous grin grace his fair features, and waved surreptitiously at Sarutobi to get his attention. He moved his hands quickly and skillfully into various positions, using the sign language of the Konoha ANBU corps to get his message across to Sarutobi.

"Is that so? Wow, I'm glad you told me that, or I would never have known what to do." Jiraiya nodded in solemn agreement, before sitting up in his chair in preparation for departure. Arashi exchanged a wink and a nod with Sarutobi and prepared to move.

"That's right, you should be thankful that someone like me, the legendary Jiraiya-sama, condescended to give you advice. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I hear some beautiful women calling my name, and I'd hate to keep them waiting." He tried to push himself off the chair, but found himself unable to move. Before he realized what was happening, he was pinned to the chair, with Arashi standing triumphantly in front of him.

"I am thankful, ero-sensei! Thankful that you're going to be my guinea pig! Got him nice and tight, gramps?" There was an answering grunt from Sarutobi, and Jiraiya looked down at his arms and legs. His feet were bound together by loops of tightly tied cord, and his arms were being held behind his back by his sensei. He felt a flash of panic, realizing what they were planning to do.

"Hey, what the hell? Let me go, you bastards! Blondie, I never said I'd let you test your stupid seal on _me_!" Arashi folded his arms and raised an insolent eyebrow at his sensei.

"Oh? Then perhaps I should bring Tsunade here. I'm sure that she'll be more than willing to use you as a punching bag…" He moved towards the door as if to go and get her, but Jiraiya cried out in protest.

"No! No, don't tell her! You can do your stupid seal, just don't tell her I was peeping!" Arashi smiled in victory and turned towards his sensei, smiling evilly.

"Okay, okay. Now, hold still. This might sting a bit…"

"Whew!" Arashi groaned as he stretched slowly, relieving some of the tension in his arms. "That was tiring! But at least it worked, right?" Sarutobi nodded slowly, reviewing the events of the past few minutes in his head. Overall, the two seals had taken only three or four minutes time, and incorporating them together in the Eight Trigrams style took only another couple of minutes. All in all, the experiment seemed a success, even if it was draining. Jiraiya's chakra had been successfully restricted, which seemed promising. But there had been something else the seal had done, but Sarutobi was unable to understand exactly what it was. Ah, well, no doubt he'd think of it later.

"Ouch, that stings." Jiraiya was tentatively rubbing his bare stomach, where only moments before the seal had been placed. "Looks like your little seal worked, Arashi. Can't say I found it fun, though. Let's not do that again, okay?"

"It isn't supposed to be fun, ero-sensei, it's supposed to be effective." The blonde Hokage felt a little worn, but that was to be expected. That sealing had taken a rather hefty chunk of his chakra. While he was gifted in that area, his chakra was far from limitless. But, even though his body felt tired, his mind was very much alive, processing the information he had obtained from this trial run. So far, it looked like everything was set.

"So, blondie. You gonna tell me and the old man what this was all about?" Arashi started and turned his attention to the white-haired Sannin, who had his arms folded.

"Hmm? Oh, I just wanted to see if it worked, which it did. That's all." Jiraiya snorted and mde his opinion of that statement abundantly clear.

"Bullshit. This has got something to do with the Shiki Fuujin, doesn't it?" Arashi, far from being surprised, seemed somewhat resigned.

"Oh, so you guys _did _know. I figured you would find out after I stupidly left that paper on the desk. Well, I would've had to tell you sooner or later. I need your help." Sarutobi turned towards his successor, his eyes narrowed.

"Our help? Arashi, that technique is forbidden for a reason. The only help I can give you is my advice, which is to lock that jutsu away forever." Arashi nodded, knowing that this was coming.

"Trust me, gramps, if there was any choice, I'd follow your advice. But, without that jutsu, we don't stand a chance. You've seen the reports, you two know how strong that thing is. We've got to use the Shiki Fuujin." Sarutobi subsided and considered Arashi's words, but Jiraiya took it upon himself to carry on the Sandaime's point.

"Look, blondie, I understand what you're trying to say. That thing is strong, but there is a way to defeat it! We don't need the Shiki Fuujin, we just need to use our heads and think of a way to beat that thing!" The Yondaime shook his head somberly.

"Jiraiya, there is no other way. You know that, just as well as I do." Jiraiya reddened and was about to shout a response, but Sarutobi lifted a hand to stop him.

"Hold on, Jiraiya. Arashi, let's think about this logically. The Kyuubi is a greater demon, and immortal to boot. The Shiki Fuujin only works correctly when the Shinigami can devour both souls. But, as we both know, the Kyuubi can't be killed, so it follows logically that its soul cannot be devoured, which means that the Shiki Fuujin will not help us. Understand?" Arashi nodded, but let a small grin flutter across his lips.

"I understand, gramps, but I figured out a way around it?" Jiraiya and Sarutobi both looked shocked, and then they both turned serious stares in the blonde's direction. Jiraiya spoke up, while Sarutobi was content to keep his silence.

"What do you mean, kid?" Arashi grinned and leaned back against the wall, prepared to explain.

"Well, it's a little complex, so bear with me. In the description for the Shiki Fuujin, the Shodaime wrote that the purpose of the jutsu was the pulling out of the soul of the enemy, so that it can be eaten by the Shinigami. What I plan to do is, right after the soul has been removed from the body, reverse the Shiki Fuujin and seal the soul into a container, so that the Kyuubi is imprisoned instead of just returning to its body or something. You see?" The two older ninja's looked half impressed and half disappointed by this news. Obviously, they had been hoping that he had found a way to avoid the 'getting eaten by Death' part.

Understanding came to Jiraiya. "So _that's _why you wanted to test that seal. So that you could use it to seal away the Kyuubi's chakra." Arashi shrugged a little, his eyes suddenly showing sadness and remorse.

"Well… that's close, but not quite correct. Any thoughts, gramps?" Sarutobi met his successor's eyes, and suddenly felt as old as the hills. Nevertheless, what he had to say must be said.

"Arashi… No regular container will hold the Kyuubi, not for long. It's simply too powerful. The only kind that would work would be a living container, and the pressure of the Kyuubi's chakra is too great for any human's chakra coils to contain." Arashi bowed his head, his attitude somber and sorrowful.

"I know. That's why the demon has to be sealed into a baby, fresh from the womb. That way, the kid's chakra coils would adapt to the presence of the Kyuubi's chakra." Sarutobi's eyes widened in realization, and the blood drained from his wizened cheeks.

"NO! You can't be serious, Arashi!" Jiraiya was merely staring at him, not quite understanding. Arashi, head bowed, merely nodded. Sarutobi sat back with a look of utmost sadness etched deep into his face. "You… really mean to seal the Kyuubi into your own child?" Understanding struck Jiraiya, and he leapt to his feet, full of rage and disbelief.

"WHAT! What are you saying?! You can't do that! It'll kill him!" Arashi shook his head, knowing well why Jiraiya was so upset. The kid would basically be his grandson, since Jiraiya had been like a father to Arashi, who had been an orphan since birth.

"There isn't a choice, Jiraiya. It has to be him." The white-haired pervert looked absolutely shell-shocked, horrified at the prospect of the boy being trapped with the Kyuubi.

"But… why? Why your boy? Why does it have to be…" His voice trailed off as his emotion threatened to get the better of him. Arashi crouched down to the floor, his eyes misting with tears of his own.

"Because I won't allow it to happen to someone else's child. I refuse to stoop that low, to allow my own feelings to stand in the way of what I must do." He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve and mustered up a tiny smile, like the sun peeking out of the clouds. "Besides, this way he'll be able to protect himself."

Sarutobi leaned forward, his own eyes showing unshed tears, and stared at Arashi questioningly. "What do you mean?" The blonde Hokage turned his gaze towards the ceiling, trying to blink away his tears.

"I'm going to modify the Shiki Fuujin so that contains the seal that we used today. If all goes well, when the demon is sealed inside my… my child, it will slowly purify the fox's chakra and add it to the kid's reserves, which should give him more chakra than he'll know what to do with. Also…" His voice nearly failed him, but he pushed on. "He should be able to use the fox's chakra when he gets into a tight pinch. There might be other side-effects, but those are the only effects I can predict. I don't…" He let the sentence fade away into nothingness, feeling a tear make its way down his cheek.

Jiraiya was in tears as well, unable to believe this sudden change of fortunes. One moment, he was the proud sensei of the greatest ninja alive, and the next moment, that same student was slated to die. He hadn't felt so terrible since Orochimaru's betrayal, and this almost hurt worse. Why did it have to happen now? Why Arashi? Why… Why his son…? He remembered when he first received the news, that his best student was soon to have a child, a boy. He felt pride like he hadn't felt in forever, and the realization that he had a family. Jiraiya had always been alone all his life, but then, for the first time, he felt like he belonged. Belonged with his son, Arashi, and his grandson. But now… it was all being taken away from him, before it had a chance to begin. And so he wept. Wept for the family he would never have.

Sarutobi let the tears stream down his face, not caring that he was breaking one of the cardinal shinobi rules. No, all he cared about right then was the fact that he had failed. He had passed on the will of fire, and now he was forced to stand by helplessly as that bright flame was snuffed out. He had failed. Failed his teachers, failed his students, failed his village. And, the worst part of all, he could do nothing about it. He looked at his student, who was crying even more than when Orochimaru had betrayed the village. He looked at Arashi, whom he had never seen crying before, weeping softly. Sarutobi tried to imagine how Arashi felt, tried to understand his grief at never being able to see his child, but could not. The pain was simply too great, the grief unbearable. In three day's time, the Yondaime Hokage would be no more.

Then, something snapped inside the Sandaime. All the despair that he felt, all the anger, all the hurt, all the pain, he took it all and cast it away. Suddenly, he felt full of purpose and strength once more, just like in the old days. He knew what he would do, and he would stop at nothing to do it. It would require all of his amazing intelligence, every ounce of knowledge that he had acquired over his many years, but it would be worth it. He would protect the Will of Fire, and ensure its safe passage through the next generation. He was going to sacrifice himself to save the Yondaime Hokage. He, the Sandaime Hokage, would die for his village.

Two days passed restlessly as the entire village prepared for the onslaught of the Kyuubi. The fires of the smithies and forges were lit day and night, preparing weapons. The practice areas were packed with shinobi of all ranks, training side by side. The two warring clans, the Hyuuga and the Uchiha, set aside their differences and banded together, using their resources and wealth to prepare the village. Many civilians had long since fled, taking what they could with them, while a few stayed out of loyalty or lack of funds. Even the Academy students were training their hardest, each of them determined to stand strong against the demonic attacker.

The Kyuubi was nearing the village. Already it had ravaged several nearby towns, and was cutting a swathe of destruction that would ultimately end at Konoha. It was expected to arrive at the village gates sometime about midnight. Therefore, the Yondaime Hokage, along with the Sandaime Hokage and Jiraiya of the Legendary Sannin, prepared the bulk of Konoha's forces to go into combat. They were slated to leave at sunset, and the sun was already beginning to fade into the horizon. All along the main street of Konoha there was the sound of sharpening, of chatter, and of farewells. The ninja of the Leaf were preparing to face death, and not a one of them was unwilling to fight for their village.

Arashi surveyed the multitude of shinobi that lined the streets, a proud smile on his lips. He was dressed in his standard Jounin gear, but wore a coat of brilliant white, with his title emblazoned on the back and dancing flames embroidered along its edges. Beside him, wearing the battle armor that had kept him alive all these years, was the Sandaime Hokage, a strange smile on his face. To his left was his sensei, Jiraiya, who was dressed in his old Jounin uniform for the first time in a long time. He nodded in satisfaction; they were ready.

For a moment, his thoughts reached out to Karada, his lover. Tsunade had informed him that she would be having a C-section performed, due to certain issues caused by the poisoning from long ago. Karada had assured him that all was well, but he still felt uneasy about it. He knew he shouldn't, since Tsunade was the finest medical ninja Konoha had ever produced, but he couldn't help it. He thought longingly of his love, his beloved Kara-chan. He thought of the gentle curve of her cheek, of the soft touch of her hair, of those beautiful emerald eyes… No, he couldn't think of her now. He needed all of his resolve to go through with his plan.

He stepped forward and turned around, so that he was facing both of his comrades. "Are you both ready? It's crucial that everything goes as planned."

As one, they nodded, knowing what was needed. Jiraiya was supposed to ensure that the sealing process went through without a hitch while the Sandaime helped the Yondaime fight the Kyuubi. When Tsunade gave the signal, Arashi was to run back and grab the kid, then dive straight back into the fight. After the jutsu was successfully completed, Sarutobi was to make sure nothing happened to Naruto. They had gone over the plan repeatedly, and the only snag was that they had to hold out until the child was born. It would take several hours, according to Tsunade, and that meant they'd have to push the Kyuubi back as much as they could.

Satisfied that all was indeed ready, he turned towards the gathered shinobi and surveyed them once more, his chest swelling with pride. His soldiers, men and women who would give their lives for the sake of the village. Loyal and strong, they had never failed him; and now he refused to fail them. By giving his own life, he would save theirs, sacrificing one for the sake of many. He'd do anything for them, even… Yes, even if it cost him an eternity of torture within the stomach of the Shinigami. At least he could endure it, knowing that he stopped the rampage of the Kyuubi, the thousand-year old demon. He'd bring that nine-tailed bastard down, no matter what it cost him.

It was nearing sundown. Soon, it would be time to go. He stepped forward, preparing to leap down to the streets and join his troops. But, suddenly, he was attacked! A presence came at him from behind, and he ducked to his right out of sheer instinct, reaching for one of his tagged kunai. But, as his hand groped at his thigh, he realized that the kunai he kept in his holster was gone! Cursing under his breath, he crouched next to the ground and turned himself about, looking for his attacker. There, standing in front of him with an unreadable expression, was Sarutobi, holding the missing kunai. Arashi stared at him, shocked to the core of his being. Old man Sarutobi, a traitor? What was going on here?

Before he could move, he was seized quickly from behind, his hands and arms quickly bound with wire so he could use no hand seals. He tried to break free, but the wire was excellently tied, and there was not a bit of slack of give to be had. He managed to jump forward and roll, coming quickly to his feet, and turning towards his other attacker. It was Jiraiya, his longtime sensei and father figure, with roll of wire still held in his hands.

Jiraiya leapt forward, taking advantage of Arashi's confusion. The blonde Hokage tried to avoid him, but . He struggled for a moment longer, then ceased when he saw Sarutobi crouch in front of him, a strange expression etched onto his face. For a moment, he was taken aback, completely unsure of what was going on. Then, with an effort, he wrenched his mind back into focus and snarled at Sarutobi, struggling against the strong wire that bound him.

"Gramps! What are you doing? Let me go! We have to fight the Kyuubi!" For a long moment, Sarutobi merely stared at him, his eyes unreadable. Then, with a smile, he reached out and patted Arashi's head, just as he had done when Arashi had been a boy.

"I'm sorry, Arashi-kun. But I can't let you do this. The Will of Fire that lies in you should not be snuffed out so quickly." The Yondaime blinked in shock, but recovered quickly.

"What do you mean? We don't have a choice! This is the only way to defeat the demon. LET ME GO!" The Sandaime shook his head slowly and solemnly.

"You are wrong. I _do _have a choice. And I have made it. You will live, Arashi-kun, and I will die for the sake for the village." Arashi was struck silent. Sarutobi was going to sacrifice himself? But… But… NO!

"NO! You can't! The village needs you! You can't even use the Shiki Fuujin jutsu!" The Sandaime Hokage raised an admonishing finger.

"Ah, there you are wrong. It is not for nothing I am known as Konoha's 'Professor'. I can use the technique just as well as you can, and I will summon the Shinigami and seal away the Kyuubi. That is the way it must be."

"He's right, blondie." Arashi stiffened as Jiraiya's voice rumbled from behind him. "You've got too much potential to die now. You've got too much to live for. We can't let you die." For a long moment, the blonde Hokage was speechless. Then, with a renewed vigor, he addressed his mentor.

"What are you saying, ero-sensei? You're going to send gramps off to his death? No! Let me-"

"SHUT UP!" Jiraiya's roar startled him into silence, and he felt teardrops fall on his neck where Jiraiya held him. "I know, brat. I know. But there's nothing we can do about it. I'm sorry." Sarutobi nodded, giving Arashi a true smile.

"Remember… Carry on my legacy… Keep the Will of Fire burning brightly. Farewell, Yondaime Hokage-sama." There was a flash of movement, and Arashi plummeted into the dark depths of unconsciousness.

Awareness came slowly, and the light pierced his eyes as he opened them. For a long moment, he wondered where he was and why he was there. Then, as his eyes began to function properly, he saw the orange ceiling and smiled. He was in his apartment, lying on his old futon. Relaxing slightly, he let his eyes drift close again, prepared to slip back into the waiting arms of sleep.

Then memory washed over him.

His eyes shot open, staring in absolute horror at his brightly colored ceiling. The Kyuubi. Karada. Jiraiya. Sarutobi. NO!

He leapt off his futon and sprinted to the window, gazing out over his village. The moon was high in the night sky, telling him that it was nearly midnight. And there, beyond the village, he saw the demon that had haunted his nightmares this past week.

Even at this distance, it was immense, with nine mighty tails that waved and danced in the air. The air around it seemed to be colored crimson, and its body seemed to flicker and shimmer like flame. There, in all its terrible majesty, was the Kyuubi no Yoko, the greatest demon to walk the earth.

For a long moment, he could go nothing but stare, fear and shock overriding his senses. He had expected big, but this was _immense_! That creature was five hundred feet if it was an inch! And those tails… He watched in terror as a tail smashed into the ground, sending great gouts of earth high into the air. He thought he could see, even at this distance, the demon's glowing red eyes, blazing in monstrous glee.

He growled, letting his anger flood his body and give him strength. He'd kill that thing, no matter what it took! Seizing a rolled-up pack of his special kunai, he leapt out of the open window, his azure eyes filled with righteous fury. He was going to fight, and he was going to _win_.

As soon as his feet touched ground, he was off, tearing along the empty streets of Konoha like a man possessed. Before long, he was at the closed gate, where a few shinobi had remained as rear guard. Without reducing his speed in the slightest, he gathered his strength and leapt as high as he could, landing lightly against the side of the wall. He raced up the vertical wall with a speed he didn't know he possessed, and he was soon over the wall, ignoring the startled shouts from the guards.

He took to the trees, leaping from branch to branch at top speed, not caring for his own safety. Branches ripped and tore at him as he ran, and it wasn't long before his body bore many cuts and scratches. But none of that mattered to him. All that mattered was the demon, which was slowly but surely getting nearer.

Finally, he broke out of the trees into a large clearing in the wound. He looked about him, taking in his surroundings as he prepared for combat.

He saw his men, his faithful shinobi, risking their lives to fight a demon they couldn't defeat.

He saw the bodies of the dead that littered the battleground, their bodies broken and twisted grotesquely.

He saw the Kyuubi, roaring in glee as it attacked again and again, snuffing out the lives of those who fought it.

And there, leading the assault, was the Sandaime Hokage, his battle armor covered with blood and sweat. He used jutsu after jutsu, sending a torrent of elemental blasts at the great demon. Lightning, fire, water, wind, and earth; he used them all, attacking the great beast with every ounce of strength that he had. On his right, his white hair streaked with mud and blood, stood Jiraiya, fighting alongside three large frogs, each of which bore a long zanbato. And on Sarutobi's left stood the mighty lord of the monkeys, Enma. He attacked the fox with animalistic fury, fighting with tooth and nail against fang and claw.

But it was no good! Arashi watched in horror as blow after blow, jutsu after jutsu, kunai after kunai impacted on the great beast's flesh. Every time a wound appeared in the demon's body, it flared with a wicked red light and healed over, regenerating completely. He stared as the Kyuubi howled out its hate and malice, lashing out at the attacking ninjas as if they were flies. Annoying flies, but flies all the same.

Arashi felt rage fill his body again, and he kicked himself into high gear. He leapt high into the air, whipping out the large roll of kunai he had taken from his house. With a shout, he threw dagger after dagger at the Kyuubi, sending a hail of steel towards the mighty demon. Due to it's immense frame, nearly all of them hit, but caused no damage. But Arashi smirked in triumph, landing lightly on the ground and putting his hands together into a seal. Now that the stage was set, the play could begin.

He disappeared in a flash of yellow light, reappearing next to a kunai that had lodged itself in the Kyuubi's leg. He seized the kunai and pulled it out, while a blue orb began to coalesce in his right hand. With a roar of rage, he brought the jutsu to completion, and attacked.

"RASENGAN!" He slammed the ball of wind into the Kyuubi's leg, letting it grind into the great beast's flesh. There was a roar of pain and rage from above him, and he saw one of the demon's tails angle towards him, preparing to squash him like a bug. He smiled as he saw it coming and closed his eyes in concentration, vanishing once more. From his new position from behind the Kyuubi, he watched as it slammed its tail into its own leg. He snickered a little at the sight, but he had something else to do.

A quick Shunshin carried him over to where the Sandaime Hokage fought, and as he appeared next to the old man, Sarutobi turned and sighed, a tired smile on his face. "You weren't supposed to wake up yet." Jiraiya started and turned, noticing Arashi for the first time. He frowned and wiped at his face, smearing some of the blood that coated his forehead.

"Hey, blondie. You aren't supposed to be here. Now get going, we've got fighting to do." He turned away, ignoring the look of anger that Arashi cast at him.

"Not likely. I'm the Hokage, and I'm gonna fight to the end. Just be glad that the Kyuubi's here, or I'd have you both strung up to dry on charges of treason. WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!" He exploded at the two older ninjas, unable to believe that they would try to stop him from fighting. Sarutobi gave him a sad smile, and Jiraiya didn't bother to turn around. Enma, Sarutobi's personal summon, stepped in front of Arashi and bowed slightly.

"Hokage-dono. You will retreat from this fight immediately. This is not your battle." Arashi growled at the monkey, infuriated that they were trying to send him away.

"BULLSHIT! This is my fight, not yours! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a demon to seal." Arashi made to move past Enma, but the monkey lord stepped into his way. He tried again, and again the primate refused to let him pass. Sarutobi turned and looked back and forth between the Kyuubi and Arashi, his face sad yet determined. He nodded at Enma, who bowed his head in acceptance. Then, the monkey lord tackled Arashi and seized him in a firm grip. The Hokage struggled, but Enma's muscles were as hard and strong as steel, and he was unable to free himself. The monkey lord bowed one final time to Sarutobi, his face sad and regretful.

"Farewell, my old friend. May we meet again in a better place." The old man smiled and laid a hand on Enma's shoulder, and the two locked gazes. The two had fought side by side for over half a century, and now it was time for them to part. Both of the hardened warriors bid each other a silent farewell, and then turned away from each other. Enma ignored Arashi's complaints and leapt away, his powerful legs pumping as he carried the blonde Hokage away from the battle.

Once they were at the edge of the field, Arashi was abruptly dropped on the ground. Immediately, he tried to go back to the field of combat, but Enma stopped him once more, his large hands clasped together into a basic hand seal. "HENGE!" Immediately, his body was surrounded by a plume of white smoke, from which a long pole extended. The staff whacked Arashi soundly across the back, sending him to the ground. As he tried to get up and leave, the staff seemed to blur and multiply, increasing its number by several dozen. All of these surrounded Arashi and began to interlock themselves, forming a barred cage made from the many staves. Soon, the blonde Hokage found himself trapped in a prison from which he couldn't escape.

He looked left and right, seeing that there was not enough space between each staff to escape. He tried to force the poles apart, but they were bound together with incredible strength. He slammed a fist into one of the staves, but it didn't even put a crack in it. Backing away from the poles, he charged up a Rasengan in his left hand, preparing to bust his way out. When it was ready, he thrust the wind sphere into one of the poles, trying to grind a way through. But, before the orb could touch it, a hand reached out from the cage and seized his arm, holding it in an unbreakable grip. He tried with his other hand, but it was snatched as well, and he found himself completely helpless to break free.

From the thick of the battlefield, Sarutobi saw the predicament he had placed his predecessor in and sighed heavily. He didn't like doing it, but he couldn't allow Arashi to get in the way. This fight was up to him to win, and he wouldn't let the Fourth get in his way. He turned back towards the Kyuubi, which was having trouble dealing with Jiraiya's summons. The white-haired summoner was looking none to pleased with the progress of the battle, though. Sarutobi agreed; there had been far too many casualties, and no noticeable progress. But they had to keep stalling, had to wait until the child arrived.

"Jiraiya, can you leave your toads and check on Tsunade?" The perverted Sannin turned towards his sensei and nodded quickly before turning his attention back to his summons. He cupped his hands around his mouth and drew a deep breath.

"HEY! YOU THREE! KEEP IT UP, I'LL BE BACK SOON!" The toads merely shrugged in response to his bellow and hefted their huge swords, preparing to charge the Kyuubi once more. Jiraiya turned away and dashed off, moving so quickly that he appeared to be nothing more than a white blur. Sarutobi watched him leave and turned back towards the fight. His eyes narrowed, and he ran through a long series of hand seals, ending on Ram. Focusing as much of his chakra as he dared, he gathered the wind about him and sent it scything towards the Kyuubi.

The demon saw the incoming wind attack and seemed to sneer, leaping above it with a feral grace. But Sarutobi had been expecting that. The wind attack began to curve upward, keeping pace with the Kyuubi as it soared through the air. For a moment, it seemed as if the might wind would cut the demon in twain. Then, somehow, the Kyuubi managed to twist itself sideways in midair, dodging the powerful winds. But, even though it avoided the brunt of the attack, it couldn't dodge completely, and two of its mighty tails was sliced off.

As the huge appendage's fell to the ground, a cheer arose from the gathered shinobi. Sarutobi had just scored their first major hit against the beast, and their spirits were rising rapidly. Maybe it could be beaten! Maybe… then their hope died. The demon, with a howl of derision, began to glow an evil red, and his tails began to regenerate at an incredible rate. The two tails that had been cut off slammed into the ground, followed by the demon fox.

Sarutobi shielded his eyes as the impact of the huge creature caused shockwaves to run through the earth, creating huge dust clouds. When the dust cover dissipated, he saw the mighty demon standing in the middle of large crater, its two missing tails fully regrown. He sighed in defeat, falling down on one knee and breathing hard. That attack had taken a lot out of him, and he had gotten nothing out of it besides chakra exhaustion. He still had enough to use the Shiki Fuujin, but that was about it. And he had sent Jiraiya away to check on Tsunade…

With a groan, he reached his pouch and pulled out a small vial of soldier pills. Unscrewing the lid, he looked at the tiny pills with a look of disgust. He had always hated these things; even though they gave you a temporary boost of energy and chakra, your body was fucked up afterwards. A wry grin passed over his lips as he seized several and swallowed them; at least he wouldn't have to worry about the side effects this time. He felt the surge of energy from within him and gave a relieved smile. It was time for round two.

He rose to his feet and slammed his hands together, forming the seal of the Serpent. Concentrating hard, he stamped his right foot into the ground, causing the earth to ripple and move strangely. Gritting his teeth in effort, he concentrated his chakra into the earth before him and _pulled_.

The ground began to crack and break apart, the topsoil moving aside to make way for something else. And there, rising from the earth like some forgotten colossus, arose a mighty stone dragon. Its serpent-like body was made from the dark obsidian that was common in this area of Fire Country, and it moved and writhed like a living thing, soil cascading off its black sides. It opened its great maw in a silent roar, and then turned towards the Kyuubi. The fox turned towards the mighty stone dragon, radiating a kind of gleeful malice. Stony, sightless orbs seemed to gaze deep into the Kyuubi's demonic eyes, and all was silent for a long moment.

Then the dragon charged, its teeth glinting dully as its mouth opened wide. The Kyuubi followed suit, rushing at the dragon with claws extended and teeth flailing.

Crimson collided with Obsidian, and chaos erupted.

Tail and claw met stone and teeth, and the two colossal creatures fought each other to the limits of their capacities. The mighty serpent would sink its onyx teeth into the fox's flank, and then would be tossed away by a powerful tail strike. The Kyuubi's mighty claws would be brought down in a slash, leaving great scars in the black stone. But, no matter how many wounds they inflicted on each other, they were always regenerated. The Kyuubi's flesh would flare and knit together, and the broken rock would rejoin itself, becoming whole once more. But that mattered not to these mighty beasts, and they would merely fling themselves back into combat, the Kyuubi's gleeful roars echoing across the land.

The battle continued on, destroying the terrain about them as they fought back and forth. From a safe distance, Sarutobi watched his creation and the Kyuubi fight, his eyes filled with worry. That dragon, while being one of his most potent techniques, was incredibly draining. Despite the enormous chakra boost from the soldier pills, he felt himself tiring quickly, and he knew he must have eaten up most of his reserves with that attack. Leaning against a tree, he sighed and chuckled darkly. _'Well, at least it'll buy us some time. Hurry… Jiraiya, Tsunade… I can't hold out much longer…' _

Arashi felt completely helpless as he watched the two titans battle each other, biting his lip in dismay. That should be him fighting! He should be the one to die for the village! It was his duty, his honor, his _life_! That's what it meant to be the Hokage! It was the heart and soul and center, the very meaning of the title. To be unable to fulfill the task set before him, to have his burden taken from him by another… He was relieved, and he despised himself for it.

'_I should be _glad _to die for the village. It's the highest honor a shinobi can receive! It's what we live for, what we strive to attain! Then why… why… why am I glad I don't have to die? Why am I happy that I get to live, while gramps dies?'_ He knelt to the floor of his 'cage', feeling disgust wash over him. _'I'm so selfish… How could I be happy at a time like this? I'm so self-centered… I don't deserve to live. But… I want to.' _His emotions flooded over him, and he slammed his hands against the poles of Enma's cage in anger. He didn't know what to feel, what to think.

Then, over the noise of the battle, he heard a shout.

Setting his confusion aside, he stood and ran to the edge of his 'cage', staring out at the battlefield. There, running across the field in great stride, was his sensei. How could anyone mistake that long, white hair? And, though it was hard to tell at this distance, he seemed to be holding something cradled in his arms… Could it be the child? Could it be his son?

He watched as Jiraiya carried the bundle to Sarutobi, who took it carefully. From the way the old man carried himself, Arashi knew that his guess had been correct. That had to be his child, his son, his little baby boy.

A rush of emotion overcame him for a moment, and tears of joy crept down his cheeks. After all this time, all those long months of waiting, he was here! His baby had finally been born! He was a _father_! And Karada… He had to get out of here, had to go see her! Their child had come into this world at long last!

But, as everyone knows, one rarely gets to do what one wants.

As he tried once more to break free from the cage, movement on the field of battle had caught his eye. Or, rather, the cessation of movement. The great obsidian serpent had, somehow, managed to loop itself about the Kyuubi, ensnaring it within coils of black rock. The fox howled in fury and beat at the serpent with its enormous tails, but it was to no avail, and the dragon merely squeezed harder.

Suddenly, a great plume of smoke appeared on the battlefield, and Arashi watched in amazement as Gamabunta, the Chief of the Toads, came into view. On its head, Arashi could make out two figures; Jiraiya, who looked completely exhausted, and the Sandaime, who didn't look much better. Arashi felt sweat run down his face and a cold feeling settle in the pit of his stomach: it was time. And there was nothing he could do but wait.

From atop of Gamabunta's head, old man Sarutobi stared at the demon he sought to imprison. Completely ensnared by the stone serpent's coils, it roared and growled at him, still lashing at his dragon with its nine tails. The Sandaime stared into the face of his death, and smiled grimly. _'Let's get this show on the road.'_

Raising his hands before him, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, focusing his chakra. Then, with the ease and mastery granted by over half a century, he began to slowly form seals. Serpent. Boar. Ram. Hare. Dog. Rat. Bird. Horse. Serpent. His hands still in the final seal, he opened his eyes and stared hard at the Kyuubi, feeling a smile tugging at his lips. _'It's time. This is where it all ends.' _He thought to himself, and then took another deep breath.

"Fuuin Jutsu: Shiki Fuujin!"

For a long moment, nothing happened. He began to sweat, wondering if the jutsu had failed. But then, without warning, the Shinigami appeared.

Sarutobi felt shivers of terror run through his body, and he swallowed his fear nervously. He did not dare to turn around and look upon Death, since it was all he could do to keep his sanity in the face of his presence. The atmosphere about him seemed to darken and grow cold, and he felt his grasp on the jutsu begin to slip. Shoving away all of his fear with Herculean effort, he concentrated his being on maintaining the technique. He would not fail!

Then the pain started.

His eyes widened in agony and he opened his mouth in a silent scream. It was terrible, like being impaled through the stomach, and the pain was enough to nearly make him black out. Coughing up blood, he tried to keep himself awake, tried to distract himself from the pain by concentrating on the jutsu. But, even though his mind was wholly dedicated to the technique, his soul felt like it was aflame, and nothing he did would ease it.

Then, he saw something that shocked him to his core. From his stomach, ripping its way through his shirt, protruded a ghostly hand, a strange purple in color. Running all along its surface were strange flame-like markings, and the appendage seemed to be groping its way towards the Kyuubi, its arm stretching longer and longer. Sarutobi watched the hand as it inched its way closer… closer…

It had reached the fox! With a flick of a wrist, the hand was thrust deep into the Kyuubi, and the arm convulsed for a moment. Then, with a jerk, it tore something out of the demon fox that made Sarutobi stare in amazement, despite the pain-induced blurred vision. It had snatched away the great beast's soul.

There, writhing in the grip of the Shinigami, was a blaze of red fire, so bright that it seemed to light the sky like a second sun, outshining the moon. It writhed in and out of shape, oftentimes no more than a mere flaming mass, but Sarutobi could make out the nine distinctive tails that marked it as the nine tailed Bijuu's soul. He watched in a mix of terror and awe as the crimson fire was drawn slowly nearer, despite the flailing of the demon's spirit.

Then, without warning, the movement ceased. In fact, unless Sarutobi was very much mistaken, it was moving _backwards_! He gasped and began to pour everything he had into the technique, desperate for success. At first, it seemed as if all his effort would be for naught. Then the Kyuubi's backwards progress began to slow, finally coming to a tenuous halt. Sarutobi felt, somehow, the tugging and pulling on the Death God's arm, and knew he had to do something. Gritting his teeth, he planted his feet and _pulled_.

There was no other word for it. Somehow, someway, he found himself slowly reeling in the Kyuubi, like a great nine-tailed fish caught on a line. Oh, the progress was mind-numbingly slow, but it never stopped! He watched in a strange elation as the demon's soul was drawn nearer and nearer, knowing that victory was soon to be his. Finally, it would be all over!

He was close now. Another ten feet. Seven. Five. Three. Two. One.

With one final effort, he pulled the demon into himself, feeling it burn as it entered him. With lungs that felt as if they were aflame, he shouted his victory cry out to the sky: "FUUIN!" There was a strange ethereal roar from the demon's soul, and then it disappeared in a bright flash of white light, becoming bound to Sarutobi. It was done. He had not failed.

He felt strangely detached from his body, and barely felt it when he dropped to his knees on the great toad's back. Then, as he fell to the ground, Jiraiya caught him carefully, holding him as if he would break at any moment. Now that Sarutobi was turned around, he could see clearly the thing that had aided him.

There, standing before him, was the Shinigami, his posture aloof and uncaring. He noted with interest the red horns that stretched out from the wild white hair, the small tanto that was clenched tightly by rotting black fangs. And there, floating in the air before him, was Sarutobi's soul, spread-eagled and motionless. He saw red flames emanating from the belly of his spirit, but then turned his eyes back to the Shinigami's face, staring at its black and yellow eyes. Noticing his gaze, the God of Death seemed to chuckle softly, the strange unearthly voice echoing oddly within the old man's head.

Then, he heard a voice, but distantly, as if it was coming from miles away. "Saru-sensei? Hey, old man? Wake up, huh? It's not time for sleeping." Sarutobi couldn't help but smile at the words of his student, and turned his head so that his eyes gazed into Jiraiya's. He grimaced as the Kyuubi's chakra began to slowly destroy his body, but forced himself to move by sheer force of will. Wetting his throat, he managed to speak softly, like a whisper.

"Jiraiya… Do it quickly… Before we lose our chance…" Jiraiya's eyes began to tear up, but Sarutobi weakly lifted a hand to quell his tears and spoke again, his voice stronger this time. "No. Don't cry for me, Jiraiya. I chose this path, and this death. There should only be happiness that the future of Konoha is assured. Now, quickly, seal it the demon away." Jiraiya roughly wiped away his tears and nodded, placing the newborn child gently onto the Sandaime's chest in preparation for the sealing.

As Jiraiya began to form seal after seal, Sarutobi stared in wonder at the tiny child that lay on his chest. Such a little thing, and yet he would carry such a heavy burden. But his burden would be his power, and at least the boy would have his father. Yes, he would not be alone. He would grow and become strong, Sarutobi could feel it.

He reached out slowly towards the boy, resting his wrinkled hand on his chest in silent benediction. With all the fervor he could muster, he lifted up a silent prayer. _'Kami-sama, protect this boy. Keep him whole and well.' _His prayer done, he began to pull his hand away but found that he could not. For the child had snagged one of his fingers in a tiny hand, wailing in hunger as it tugged on the digit. As he felt the strength of the child, he suddenly saw an image of his sensei's, the Shodaime and Nidaime Hokages, staring at him with proud eyes. He felt a tear fall from his face and laid his hand on the child once more, keeping the image of his masters clear in his mind. _'May the will of fire burn brightly in you, child. Make me proud of you, just as I have made my mentors proud.'_

Then, movement caught his eye. The Shinigami was pulling out his knife, no doubt preparing to devour his soul. Jiraiya would have to hurry, or there would be no more time! Once the Sandaime's soul was devoured, the Kyuubi would be released again, and all the effort would be for naught! But, even as he opened his mouth to tell Jiraiya, he felt the pain in hisbelly begin to fade, signaling that Jiraiya had already begun the extraction process. But, despite his student's haste, he knew he would not live to see the Kyuubi safely sealed.

Quickly, the tailed beast was dragged out of the old man's body, and Jiraiya set to work sealing it into the boy. But Sarutobi did not see it, could not see it. His gaze was upon the Shinigami, who had cut his soul in twain. He watched with darkening vision as the God of Death began to devour his soul, chewing and swallowing grotesquely. But he did not care. His time was over, his task done. He could die, now, confident that he had protected his village. He had done his duty, and Konoha would live on.

Then, with a smile on his face, the Sandaime Hokage of Konoha passed away.

* * *

AN: Well done! You've made it through another chapter from me. Congratulations. Your prize: the right to leave reviews! But, seriously, any and all suggestions or comments are greatly appreciated. I'm still taking requests on the harem, but remember, all final decisions are up to me and JohnnyG. My will is not my own, not with my demonic coauthor peering over my shoulder, whipping me into submission at the slightest error in spelling. Or, something, anyways. I hope you enjoyed it! 'Til next time.

Gaereth


	3. Chapter 3

The Will of Fire

Chapter Three: A Tragic Victory.

* * *

AN: DUDE! I was so totally right! Naruto's actual mom in the anime is so much like Karada! Sure, the name's different, but she's totally similar. The red hair, the temper, the slight tomboyness. I can, like, see the future or something… Sweet. Here's a prediction: NARUTO BECOMES THE HOKAGE! Yeah, bet you didn't expect that one.

Disclaimer: Kishimoto still owns Naruto, and he holds it with a grip of iron. Thusly, I don't own Naruto. However, I do own the story and any original characters I introduce. So, no touchie.

Special Thanks: Again, tons of thanks to JohnnyG, whose patience knows no bounds. And thanks to all of you for waiting so long for this next chapter! And many, many thanks for those of you who sent me reviews! Read on, my friends, and find out if it was worth the wait.

Special, Special Thanks: I really wanna thank my buddy 'Captain Sancho', who helped me fix up the chapter after I screwed up the first couple of times. Thanks, man!

* * *

The moon shone down on the ruined battlefield, its cold light illuminating all. It shone on the broken and battered corpses of the dead, on the pain-wracked bodies of the injured and dying, and on the sorrowful forms of the living. It glinted darkly off pools of blood and broken weapons, and it brought light on sights that should have been left unseen.

But Arashi saw. He saw everything.

From his prison at the rear of the battlefield, he stared out at the carnage with tear-filled eyes, feeling a great sorrow envelop his senses. When Enma dispelled his transformation and returned the Hokage's freedom, he did not respond. It was not until his azure eyes rested on the gigantic figure of Gamabunta that he started moving.

Slowly, blindly, he stumbled towards the battlefield, staggering under the weight of his sorrow. As he made his way through the ruined field, he began to notice the faces of the dead, feeling his grief grow with each familiar visage.

There was Takada, ever cheerful and energetic. Now she was torn in half, her entrails splayed across the ground.

Hiroshi, the stern and enigmatic Aburame, was near her. The charred husks of his insects were scattered about him, and his ribcage had been smashed in.

He saw Miyu, a quiet yet intelligent Chuunin. Even in death, she wore her ever-present smirk, albeit on a severed head.

And there were more. Many more. Too many. Why did this have to happen?

Because he wasn't there to protect them.

His head bowed in infinite shame, he drew near to the great toad, whose head was bowed as if in prayer. Somehow, he managed to muster the chakra to walk up the great amphibians back, coming to a stop on its huge head.

He saw Sarutobi, the God of Ninja, growing cold and stiff in death.

For a long moment, he did nothing. He did not even think. His entire being seemed frozen as he stared at the corpse of the Sandaime.

_Dead._

_He was dead._

_The kindly and mildly perverted old man._

_The gentle, yet firm grandfather._

_The student of the Founding Brothers._

_The teacher of the Legendary Sannin._

_The Professor of Konoha._

_The God of Ninja._

_The Sandaime Hokage of Konoha._

_Dead._

_Dead!_

_Because of me!_

_BECAUSE OF ME!_

Over and over he repeated those three words in his mind, knowing that they were true. He should have fought in his place; he should have died for his village. Not Sarutobi. It should have been him. Not Gramps.

He fell to his knees on the great toad's back, tears streaming down his face. It was all his fault. Everything. The attack of the Kyuubi, the battle, and Sarutobi's death. It was all because of him. And he had done nothing to stop it. Or was it that he _could _do nothing?

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and knew it was Jiraiya. The sounds of hoarse sobbing told him that Jiraiya was crying as well, grieving the death of his teacher, mentor, and father-figure. Another thing that he should have prevented. The grieving of his sensei served only to make his own sorrow even keener.

After a long moment, Jiraiya cleared his throat harshly, trying to speak through his sorrow. "Arashi… It's over. He… He wanted it this way." Jiraiya's words fell on deaf ears, for Arashi knew that this was not the way it should have been. Jiraiya felt his tears coming on again, and turned away from Arashi, looking down at the little bundle he held in his arms. The boy lay there, wrapped in cloth torn off a sheet from the hospital bed. The white-haired Sannin smiled sadly as he saw that the boy was sleeping soundly, as if he wasn't the only thing stopping the Kyuubi from continuing its rampage. He had cried plenty during the sealing process itself, but as soon as the pain stopped, he had gone straight to sleep.

Jiraiya would have given anything to be like this child. To sleep, to pretend that everything that happened was just a nightmare. To be unaware of what this victory had cost Konoha.

Holding back his tears, he thrust the sleeping infant into Arashi's chest, who held it instinctively. "Arashi. It's… your son."

Jiraiya might as well have struck the young Hokage over the head with a barstool. He would have received the same kind of dazed shock. Arashi started wildly and stared at the child that lay in his arms, sleeping contentedly. His son? His child? His eyes gazed at the infant's face with a stunned disbelief. Could it be? Was it really his child? It looked a lot like him, with the same kind of nose and facial structure, and the blonde hair…

Blonde hair. Karada said it would be red.

Karada.

_Where is Karada?!_

A terrible dread fell over Arashi, and he froze with an unnamed horror. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Always, when he thought of her, there would come a warmth, a glow, from within him, as if his heart raced at the very thought of his lover. But now, it lay cold and stiff, and the feeling was no more. Could it be…?

He turned towards Jiraiya, his eyes meeting those of his sensei. In his azure orbs, the unspoken question was clear. Jiraiya turned away from his gaze, his head bowed and his dirty white hair covering his face. But Arashi understood the silent answer; the words that they dared not speak aloud had reached him nonetheless. He knew, then, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he must go to her, must see if she was well…

_What if she was…_

Awful foreboding filled the blonde shinobi as he kicked his body into high gear. Without a single word of goodbye, he turned and raced away, running at full speed towards the village. Onward he raced, never slacking his speed, towards the mother of his child, who he clasped tightly to him. His heart told him that she was in danger, terrible danger, and he had to be there! He had to save her! He _had _to!

_Not her! Kami, I couldn't lose her, too!_

_KARADA!_

* * *

Jiraiya was not at all surprised at Arashi's sudden departure, and he watched the blonde Hokage disappear with a sad sigh. There had been enough tragedy already in one night, and Jiraiya knew that it would be increased tenfold when Arashi reached his destination.

He turned back towards the corpse of his mentor and waited for the tears to come again. He was surprised when he felt no sorrow, no overwhelming grief. After the initial shock, he found that he could not cry for his sensei. It was disturbing, but rather comforting at the same time. '_Maybe this is Saru-sensei's way of telling me not to be sad. It would be just like him.' _He mused silently for a moment longer, than turned his attention to the Kyuubi.

Even in death, the Kyuubi's immense form spoke of power and grace, trapped though it was in the coils of the obsidian serpent. His tails hung limply, and the demonic glow of his eyes was gone, but the body remained, a testament to the fall of the great demon. Jiraiya could feel no anger in him, even though he desperately wanted it. He wished that he could burn with the fire of his rage, the strength of his fury wiping away the memory of his loss. But… he could not. Although the demon had destroyed the man who had been a father to Jiraiya, he found that he felt no strong enmity towards the great beast.

Instead, a great pity seized him, and he felt his sadness redouble. The demon was bound, now, and doubly so; its body entangled within the coils of the obsidian dragon, and its soul trapped within the soul of a mere child. All that power, that grace, that terrible and deadly power, had availed it naught. It was reduced now to a spirit, a mere shadow of what once was.

Just like his sensei.

He sighed and made to turn away from the demon, but a small movement caught his eye. Turning back towards the beast, he narrowed his eyes and stared hard at the place where he had seen movement, the lower jaw of the Kyuubi. Had his eyes deceived him? No, there it was again! A trickle of some fine powder, like dust, fell from the Kyuubi's great maw, pouring out through the gaps between its tremendous fangs.

Jiraiya frowned and leapt down from atop Gamabunta's head, sprinting towards the Kyuubi. Slowing to a stop underneath its jaws, he knelt and examined closely the ground where the strange powder had fallen. It was a pale grey in color, and it seemed to be smoking or steaming slightly. He reached out and touched it with a finger, but withdrew it with a hissed oath; the dust was abnormally hot, as if it had been recently near a great heat. But that was not what really interested him. Looking closely at the 'dust', he saw that he had not been far off. It was, in fact, dirt. A very fine soil, almost like finely grained sand. Strange.

He was distracted from his examinations by a strange rumbling noise above him, the kind of sound that made him think of something big being put under immense pressure. He stood and backed away from the Kyuubi, craning his head upwards to see what had made the noise.

It was the Kyuubi.

Again he heard the strange rumble, and it jogged loose a memory in his mind. As he moved further away from the Kyuubi, he remembered his travels through the Country of Earth, when he was scouting out the Rock shinobi's defenses. In that large country, earthquakes and seismic displacements were not uncommon, and he had had the misfortune of being close to one. The awful noise the earth had made as it shifted and ruptured had never left his memory, and it was that same noise he was hearing now; the sound of great masses of earth under unimaginable stress.

The rumble came again, louder, and now his eyes could see changes in the Kyuubi. As he watched in increasing terror, the fur and flesh of the great beast seemed to lose its color, becoming a dull grey. Now, from his position in front and beneath the creature's corpse, he could see great cracks beginning to form on its belly, spreading out from its midsection. He had seen fissures of this kind before, back in Earth country, but these cracks glowed cherry red, and he could see the air around the Kyuubi begin to haze from the heat they emitted. His eyes widened and he backed away, not quite sure what he was seeing but knowing that it was something to be feared.

Turning away from the Kyuubi, he motioned to Gamabunta, wanting him to jump away. The toad saw his wild gestures but, tired as he was, he could not find the energy within him to move. Nor could he dispel the summoning without letting the body of the Third Hokage plummet disgracefully to the earth below. Jiraiya, seeing that the toad chieftain wasn't going anywhere, sprinted back towards him, stopping only when he was at Gamabunta's feet. As he ran, he heard the rumbling grow louder and louder, until it drown out all other noises, save for the cracking sound of the fissures forming in the Kyuubi's body. It was then that Jiraiya knew with certainty what would come next.

The great beast's body was going to explode. Too late did Jiraiya remember that the demon's body was made of Earth and Fire! Too late had he realized his danger!

He turned to run, to put as much distance as was possible between him and the Kyuubi. But, even as he did so, movement in the battlefield caught his eye. The survivors of the great battle were still there, and the force of the explosion could be catastrophic. They would die.

He would not allow that.

Now, at last, the fury that he had longed for earlier burst into flame, scorching him from within by the force of its fire. But it was not the fury that came from vengeance; no, this was righteous anger, sprung from this final attack on his people. Knowing that he had no chakra left that he could spare, he took the only course of action he could.

He chose to surpass his limit.

With an ease born from a lifetime of hard combat and warfare, he steeled himself to the possibility of death and clasped his hands together, focusing inwards in a way he had very rarely done. He envisioned in his mind his own chakra coils, imagining that he could see only the merest trickle of chakra where there had once been a raging torrent. But, no matter. He would soon remedy that.

He tapped deep into his life's energy, the chakra that was intended to keep his body functioning. Though he knew it was the most foolish thing that a shinobi could do, he diverted it away from where it should be, intending to put it to a better use. Then, still concentrating on controlling the chakra he had seized, he slammed his hands together in a familiar seal. After all, he had made this jutsu himself: it was only fitting that he should use it here.

"Doton: Yomi Numa!" His shout rang across the battlefield as he poured all the chakra he could into the technique. Then, with a surge, the ground beneath the Kyuubi's cracked body began to sink away, becoming a large swamp. The ground sucked and pulled at the feet of the beast, and it began to sink slowly. As Jiraiya had hoped, the weight of its own body combined with that of the stone dragon allowed it to sink much faster than normal, and before long, the demon was up to its thighs in the murky mud.

But, suddenly, Jiraiya knew that he had not had enough chakra! The swamp, while being big enough, was far from being deep enough to submerge the fox completely, which meant that he could not contain the explosion. It would go no further into the murky depths, meaning that it would soon detonate, and he could do nothing to stop.

He, the Legendary Sannin, could do nothing.

Then, even in this dire hour, a determination filled his eyes, and he shook his head. No, there was something he could do! He would save who he could, shield them in any way possible; with his own flesh and blood, if he must! Turning away from the corpse, which was now glowing a bright red and covered in cracks, he sprinted off towards the battlefield. Those who could do so had already fled, leaving only the stubborn and the heavily wounded. It was the latter Jiraiya was intent on saving.

But there was no time. He had scarcely reached the edge of the battlefield before the inevitable happened.

For a moment, the rumbling noise had paused, and all was silent, as if the whole world held its breath in anticipation. And then, in a cataclysmic wave of sound and heat, it exploded.

Jiraiya was thrown to the ground with incredible force, the shockwave far too powerful for the muscles of mere humans to withstand. But that was not the worst of it. A heartbeat after the shockwave had passed, the fiery winds came, roaring through the air, setting the trees aflame. The hot and powerful gust swept over Jiraiya, searing his exposed skin and singeing his hair and clothes. The heat was intense, and the only reason he was not badly burned by it, or his clothes and hair set ablaze, was because it lasted barely an instant.

For several seconds, nothing else happened. Then the downpour began. A rain not of water, but of earth. From above, huge boulders the size of buildings gouged great divots in the ground and formed craters as they landed, cherry red from their heat. Trees were struck and destroyed, their great trunks torn asunder from the force of the impacts. Many, many other rocks fell, some as large as a man, and others naught but pebbles. But they were all traveling at great speeds, and they all seemed to burn from their heat. Jiraiya could do nothing but curl into a ball as rock after rock struck his back and side, gashing him and bruising him badly.

Then, it was over. With many a painful grimace, Jiraiya struggled to his feet, holding an arm that had been struck by a rock the size of his head. Luckily, no rocks of any great size had struck him, or else there would have been one less Sannin in the world. But… many of the others had not been so lucky, and from all around him he could hear the sounds of the wounded screaming their pain out to the sky. He gathered his wits and looked around, surveying the broken battlefield.

Great boulders were scattered everywhere, quite a few of them still hot and smoking. The smaller stones and pebbles were all over the place, and a great dust cloud was settling over the battlefield. Of the Kyuubi's body, there was no sign. It was gone, returned from the earth from which it was made. It had destroyed the obsidian dragon as well, and the swamp he had formed had been blasted into nothingness. He felt a flicker of gladness as he saw that his swamp had been of much use, containing the blast from its lower legs. Not only that, but because the explosions elevation had been so drastically lowered, the rocks had not gone so far as they might have, and a very many had fallen short of the survivors altogether.

However, that did not mean that grievous damage had not been done. Everywhere, those who were already injured had suffered even more harm, and not a few had already succumbed to death. But, even though many had been injured, many had been saved by Gamabunta. The great toad had been hit by quite a few of the large boulders, taking the blows that had been intended for the ninja on his own great frame. Gamabunta was badly wounded, and the gash over its eye it had received in the battle was bleeding freely, but the toad chieftain had refused to leave until it had paid its respects to the dead and to Sarutobi.

Jiraiya made his way back to the toad, which was carrying Sarutobi's body down on its large tongue. The Three Sword Brothers he had summoned were there also, presenting their blades in homage to the fallen leader. And there, watching as the Hokage's corpse was brought down, was Lord Enma, Sarutobi's personal summon. On his simian face there was no trace of emotion, but Jiraiya knew he had considered Sarutobi one of his greatest friends. And, gathering from all over the battlefield, the surviving shinobi of Konoha who were not too injured to move clustered around the toad, watching as the aged warrior was gently deposited onto the cold earth.

Then, and only then, did the wounded chieftain depart from the battlefield. As he disappeared into a great plume of white smoke, soon followed by the three sword-wielding toad brothers, there was silence among the assembled survivors, one which no one dared to break. They merely stood there, lost in memories. Some remembered how Sarutobi had carefully and methodically taught them, molded them, made them into the shinobi they were today. Others remembered the sympathy he offered, and how he would always offer a listening ear and excellent advice. A wife, sobbing quietly in the arms of her husband, thought of how the old man had brought them together. A scarred ninja remembered how Sarutobi had comforted him when his brother had died. One and all paid tribute to the fallen warrior, remembering his deeds with joy and greeting his death with sorrow.

Jiraiya gazed down into the face of his fallen sensei, who stared unseeing at the moon above. Even in death, the small smile had not left his lips, and Jiraiya grinned as he remembered the many times he had seen that smile. He chuckled quietly as he remembered their escapades in the women's hot springs, and he shook his head as he recalled the old man's sympathetic words after Orochimaru's betrayal. Even now, after his death, Jiraiya felt that the old man was looking down from on high, watching over the people of his village.

He knelt beside Sarutobi's body, his calloused hand gently stroked the wrinkled face. "Goodbye, Saru-sensei. And… thank you." He whispered the words softly and, for a moment, he could have sworn that the old man's smile had grown slightly. With a last look into the eyes of the man who made Jiraiya what he was today, the white-haired Sannin closed the eyes of his sensei forever.

Sarutobi was dead.

* * *

There was nothing left.

Everyone was dead.

There was nothing left to live for.

Sakaki, dead.

Miyu, dead.

Takada, dead.

Hiroshi, dead.

Obito, dead.

Rin, dead.

Sarutobi… dead.

Karada… Karada…

Dead.

He gazed down at her body, at the blood-spattered sheets that covered her wound from his sight. His eyes noted her crimson hair, the same color as the blood that dyed the sheets. Her eyes would never open again. Never again would those lips smile coyly, would that nose wrinkle in disdain, would those eyebrows lift in disbelief. Never again would she kiss him, hold him, make love to him.

She was dead. And his heart with her.

Tsunade had explained everything, of course. Her body, weakened from the poison, was unable to stand the strain of a C-section, but she was unable to birth the baby normally without it being killed in the process. She had chosen the C-section, chosen to die so that her baby would live. She had died for her son. Their son. His son. She had wanted it this way, been resigned to her fate.

None of it mattered to Arashi. She was dead.

Dead.

His love, his only, his beloved, his angel. Dead.

There was nothing left. Nothing but pain and grief.

No… There was one thing left. One thing that bloomed amid this sea of death.

He had a son. A healthy boy.

And he would raise him as best he could. Alone. Without his Karada. Without his crimson-haired angel.

With shaking steps, he gave the boy to Tsunade, who was crying softly next to the door, and walked over to Karada. He stood beside her now, looking down at her with bloodshot eyes. She looked calm, peaceful, serene. He reached out a quivering hand, touching her cheek softly, tracing the curve of her chin. He knelt then, taking her face in both hands. With tender, loving care, he wiped the sweat from her brow and smoothed her hair, tears falling from his cheeks as he did so. Then, for the last time, he leaned over her and planted a soft kiss on her cold lips, knowing that it was over. She was gone.

As he pulled away from her, he heard a loud cry coming from behind him. Turning, he saw that his son had awakened from his slumber. Tsunade was trying to shush him, but he intervened, gently lifting the child out of her arms and carrying him to the bed where his mother lay. He laid the boy softly on the bed next to Karada, and, for a moment, the child went silent. Then, feeling the cold flesh of his dead mother, he cried all the more, as if he, too, grieved for her passing.

Arashi gathered him in his arms again, wishing he could scream as well. The boy stopped yelling, settling for small sniffs and hiccups instead. Tsunade, speaking for the first time since her explanation, offered to find him some food, since the lad was no doubt starving. Arashi looked at the child and hesitated, unwilling to let him go. But, nonetheless, he handed the boy over, and Tsunade hurried off to find a wet nurse. Now, he was alone. Alone with his lover.

With Karada.

He crossed the room quickly, kneeling once more at her side. His hands found hers and held them, warming them with his heat. He laid his head against her shoulder, just like he always did. But, this time, there was no answering embrace. There was no whispered endearments, quiet jokes, or suggestive comments. There was nothing, nothing but the cold silence of death.

His control was swept away by the wave of his grief, and he wept.

* * *

It was a dark time for Konoha. Everyone who had not lost family had lost friends, and the death toll was in the hundreds. Nearly all of the casualties were shinobi, which meant that Konoha's economic future for the coming couple of years was dim indeed. Not only that, but the villagers were incensed over the survival of the Kyuubi, even though it had been safely sealed away. Even though they were angry, however, they still had their priorities straight: the dead must be tended to first.

There were many private funerals the day after the battle. Any shinobi that were still recognizable were given a full funeral, while those whose bodies had been broken beyond recognition were buried in a mass grave. The Sandaime, after he had lain in state for a full day, had been buried with much sorrow. And now, the evening of that same day, all of Konoha was grieving.

Arashi had been cloistered away ever since the battle with Kyuubi, never once leaving his dead lover's side. He stayed with her until Tsunade and Jiraiya came to get him, telling him it was time to bury her. He was at her side as they carried her out of the hospital on a stretcher, as they laid her in a coffin, as they lowered her into the ground. Even after the soil was heaped on top and smoothed down, he still remained, kneeling in the dirt next to the small marker that bore her name.

Evening found him still in that spot, staring with empty eyes at the grave of his lover. As the sun began to disappear behind the buildings of Konoha, he realized that he was no longer alone. But he did nothing. Even if it was an assassin, he would not fight. He would welcome death, and the reunion it would bring. But, it was no killer. It was Kakashi.

The silver-haired Jounin had been away from the village on a long-term assignment, patrolling the borders between Water and Fire country, and had returned as soon as word of the Kyuubi reached his ears. He had been stopped at the gate and taken to Jiraiya, who had briefed him on the aftermath of the battle. He had gone to see Karada's grave, and had found his former sensei there, mourning.

He crouched down beside his mentor, gazing down at the fresh soil that outlined Karada's grave. For a long moment, he said nothing, staring without emotion. It was Kakashi's code to never cry, no matter what happened. But never had he had to try so hard to hold the tears back. He had known Karada, and liked her. After all, she had a ready wit and an able mind, which were two things she and Kakashi had in common. Many was the time they had debated about one thing or another late into the night watches, not stopping until Arashi threw in the towel for his student and shooed his lover to bed with many an innuendo. And now, to come home to find out she was dead, along with so many others… Kakashi was grieving as he had not grieved since the death of his father.

Finally, he spoke, saying only two words. "I'm sorry."

Arashi said nothing, merely staring at the grave of his lover in silence.

Kakashi, knowing what must be going through his sensei's head, felt he could not leave off there. "It… It isn't your fault."

_That _got a reaction. Arashi's head slowly turned towards Kakashi, his blue eyes cold and filled with hurt. With no trace of emotion, he simply said, "Yes, it is."

Kakashi shook his head. "No. It's not your fault."

Arashi's eyes began to show a little anger, and his voice was somewhat heated when he spoke again. "It is. I could have stopped it, and I should have stopped it, and I didn't."

"You're wrong." Kakashi's words were spoken quietly, but with a steely edge to them. "You couldn't have stopped it."

"Yes, I could have!" Arashi was beginning to show real anger in his voice. "I'm the Hokage! I could have fought, I could have driven the demon away, I could have… I could have saved her."

"Bullshit." Kakashi spoke with quiet authority, and for a long moment, Arashi was too shocked to say anything, giving Kakashi ample time to lay out his argument. "Firstly, the attack of the Kyuubi was something none of us anticipated, and none of us had the power to defeat the demon in combat. The Shiki Fuujin was the only choice. Not only that, but it is not only foolish, but illogical, to have the younger and more powerful of two leaders perform a suicidal technique, especially when the elder is just as capable and more than ready to do so. Furthermore, the loss of shinobi in that battle was regrettable, but also unavoidable. You claiming you could have stopped it by fighting is like saying you should fight a war by yourself. And Karada…" He stopped speaking for a moment, trying to decide what to say. "There was nothing you could do. There were only two options, and even Tsunade can't regrow the degenerated organ tissue. It was either let the child die so Karada could extend her life by another five or six years, or die for the sake of her child. There was nothing you could do."

Arashi felt angry at first, wondering where his student got off telling him what was and what wasn't true. But, even in this state, he knew cold logic when he heard it. But, even so… "If I had been more alert that night, if I had just stopped her from getting poisoned in the first place…"

Kakashi knew where Arashi was going with this, and he was not about to let his sensei go down that path. "Saying 'if only' is just stupid. What happened, happened. It sucks, but that's the way it is. Now stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Arashi bristled. His student had gone too far. "What do you know?! Look around you! I just lost everything! My men, my lover, my friends… All dead."

Kakashi was silent for a long moment. Then, slowly, he raised his hand to his forehead protector, which slanted across his left eye. He pushed it up slowly, revealing his fully mastered Sharingan eye he had received from Obito. But that was not was stunned Arashi. No, it was the fact that the eye was crying. The three tomoe of the eye slowly spun as tears poured down Kakashi's left cheek, and Arashi bowed his head in shame. Of course. Obito. Kakashi had lost people as well, many of them.

After a poignant pause, Kakashi laid a hand on his sensei's shoulder and looked into his eyes, black and red meeting bloodshot blue. He spoke then, slowly but earnestly, saying, "It is easy to place the blame on yourself, sensei. It's much harder to let go. I know." Pulling away, he replaced his forehead protector and sighed deeply. "I still blame myself for Obito's death. And I still grieve for my father. It's hard, sensei. Very hard." With that, the pale-haired Jounin rose and strode away, hands in his pockets. It was time for him to visit an old friend.

Arashi turned back towards the grave of his dead lover, mulling over Kakashi's words in his mind. Whether he liked it or not, they rang true, and he knew that he must either accept them or go through life as a failure. It would take time, and it would be hard, but he had to move on. Whether he wanted to… or not…

The blonde Hokage rose and took one last look at his lover's grave, and then strode away, anxious to find his son. As he left the graveyard, he knew in his heart that it was over. That chapter in his life he and Karada had shared was over. It was time to start the next chapter, the one that he and his son would share.

'_Goodbye, Karada. I love you. I will never forget you. I swear it.'_

* * *

The moon was high in the sky before Arashi was able to see his son. He had gone to see many of the survivors of the attack, comforting and helping where he could. As he did so, it was driven home just how wrong he had been to closet himself away after the attack. He should have been doing his duty as the Hokage, doing what Sarutobi would have done: help the people. As he finally passed into the hospital where his son was staying, he realized that he had a long way to go before he became the kind of leader that Sarutobi was. A pang of sorrow hit him, but he shrugged it off and focused on his goal: his son.

The door closed behind him with a thud, waking a dozing Tsunade. She had not really slept for several days, and the best she could manage was a quick catnap on the main desk between patients. The medic nin blinked herself awake quickly, adjusting her clothes as she did so. She was currently using a Genjutsu to make herself look somewhere in the neighborhood of eighteen, so Arashi couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at her appearance.

"Tsunade, has Jiraiya seen you like that?"

Tsunade, still drowsy, looked confused. "Huh? Like what?"

"Has he seen you in that particular Genjutsu."

She looked down at herself and then back at Arashi. "Umm… No, not really. I just modified it this afternoon. Why?"

Arashi gave her a semi-cheerful grin. "Because you look like you stepped out of one of Jiraiya's books. Eighteen and with a bust that huge?"

She blushed slightly and put on her coat, throwing him an annoyed look. "Well, then, I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. Hey, wait a minute. Jiraiya writes books?"

Arashi looked from side to side conspiratorially and leaned towards her, speaking to her in a stage whisper. "It's all very hush-hush. He plans to get them published pretty soon. I'll give you one guess as to the subject matter."

Her blush faded entirely, replaced by a look of righteous anger. "I'm gonna kill that old pervert, I swear it."

Arashi sighed a little and shrugged. "Fine, but at least let him get a good look before you do. You might as well let the old fart die happily."

She colored, and then let out a laugh, her first one in days. Taking him by the arm, she led him down the hall towards the nursery, where she had been taking care of Naruto. "I'm glad you came along," she told him as they walked, "I'm a little worried about the squirt."

Arashi frowned, not much liking where this was going. "What do you mean? Is he not eating or something?"

She shook her head, turning left down a long hall. "No, it's not that. But he won't stop yelling. I'm not sure why but it's rather… Oh, there he is now." Sure enough, echoing from the end of their hallway, there came the sounds of a baby bellowing for all it was worth. Arashi winced a little at the sheer volume, then repressed a grin. Looks like the kid had inherited Karada's lungs. A pang of grief flashed through him, but he shook it off, striding towards the room that held his son.

Flinging open the door with a theatrical flair, he stepped inside, casting an investigative eye about. Yes, everything seemed to be in order. Wailing son, check. Standard medical supplies, check. Amply endowed Tsunade, double check. Little girl holding his son, check. Wait...

He crossed over to the little girl's side, standing next to her and examining her with a critical eye. She was a thin wastrel, with black, mousy hair and an incredibly meek demeanor. She positively cowered before him, and he couldn't help but smile at her. She was just so… so… what's the word… ah, to hell with it. Timid, that's it. Like a little rabbit. He crouched down next to her and motioned to Tsunade.

"Yo, granny, who's the kid?"

Tsunade bridled at his use of that hated word, but graciously decided not to pummel him for it. "That is my apprentice. Her name is Shizune, and she is Dan's niece." Understanding came into Arashi's eyes, and he appraised the child with renewed interest.

"Well, be that as it may," he said loudly, then poked the girl softly in the arm, "can I have my kid back?"

She blushed, but delivered the screaming infant with admirable haste. Arashi was now faced with a difficult dilemma: namely, how to get the kid to stop screaming. As he held the boy awkwardly in his inexperienced arms, he thought back to his childhood. What was the one thing that had always cheered him up…? Ah! Of course! He turned to Tsunade and figured that she'd be the one to know the answer to that most ancient and sacred of questions.

"Tsunade, where do you keep the ramen?"

She wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Ramen? You mean that instant noodle stuff? There's probably some in the break room, but I don't see why you'd want it. I always thought it tasted nasty."

He raised his free hand to quell this flow of blasphemy she was uttering. "Cut the chatter, woman, and lead me to it. There is ramen to be had, and none shall stand in my way, be they ne'er so large of breast."

Within five minutes, three of which he spent waiting anxiously for the so-called 'instant' ramen to be ready, he had before him a steaming cup of the finest. It was chicken, and he preferred pork, but he had learned to take the rough with the smooth. Turning to the bawling infant in his arms, he carefully dipped a finger into the broth and pulled it out, noting how the ramen even managed to _drip _deliciously. It must be something in the seasoning; it took every ounce of his iron self-control to keep himself from eating the delicious broth himself. Taking dipped digit A and inserting it into mouth B, he soon had the kid sucking contentedly on his finger, making occasional squeaks and whimpers of joy. A pleasant change from the screaming of earlier, that was for sure.

Tsunade stared at him incredulously. "Who would have guessed it? The kid's a ramen freak, too?"

Arashi directed a stern look in her direction, unable to let this gross insult go untouched. "We prefer to be called ramen 'lovers', not freaks. Ramen has feelings too, you know."

Tsunade shook her head, letting out another laugh. "Fine, fine, have it your way. Kami-sama, how can you be so damnably cheerful after all that's happened?"

There was a long silence, during which the finger had to be re-dipped twice. Finally, with a low, sad voice, Arashi answered her. "To tell the truth, I'm not at all cheerful. Right now, I am about as sad and lonely as a man can be. But… that's no reason to let the kid drown in my misery, am I right?"

Tsunade stared at him, not a little shocked. She realized what he meant, and she also knew that was what she had been doing herself. In her misery over the death of her lover and her brother, she had thrown everything else away. She had effectively abandoned everyone simply because she couldn't handle her grief. Not only that… but Shizune, poor girl, had been dealing with the brunt of it. Many were the time she would rant drunkenly about what had happened, and Shizune would always comfort her as best as she could. There was good stuff in the girl, and she didn't deserve having to deal with Tsunade's bitching.

She thought that over for a time, than turned back to Arashi and his son, who was on his twelfth serving and going strong. "So, have you thought about what you're going to name him?"

Arashi threw her a surprised look, but quickly turned it into a thoughtful one. "Hmmm… Now that you mention it, I never really thought about it. Kara…" He hesitated for a moment, then carried on as if nothing had happened. "Karada and I bandied a few back and forth, but we didn't want to make any decisions, especially since we couldn't agree on anything."

Tsunade crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall, having noticed that pause. "I see. Well, now you've got time to think. Got any ideas?"

Arashi looked at his son, who was on his twenty-first serving and still going, and thought for a moment. Then, balancing his kid carefully on his legs, he reached into his kunai pouch and pulled out one of his special kunai and looked at it. Specifically, at the symbol engraved on it. A spiral. Whirling. A whirlpool. _'No, not cool enough.'_ He thought to himself. Idly tossing the kunai at the hospital wall, he thought about his own name. Arashi. A kickass name, if ever there was one. I mean, how can you get any cooler than 'storm'? Wait… Whirlpool. Storm. _Spiral_. So awesome!

A grin spread over his face. He had it. Turning to Tsunade, he lifted the kid and held it out towards her, trying to strike as theatrical a pose as was possible while still feeding the lad. "Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls, I present to you: The one, the only, Uzumaki Naruto!"

There was no response from the peanut gallery. He looked back and forth between Shizune and Tsunade, but neither of them said a word. He looked down at the kid, and even the newly-christened Naruto didn't seem to be cheering him on, seeing as he was too busy downing his thirtieth helping. Hell, at this rate, he'd have to get another cup of ramen ready.

Finally, Tsunade spoke. "Um… You're naming your kid after a steamed fish cake?"

Arashi gave her a disbelieving look. "You honestly think I'd do that? Heaven forbid any child be stuck with that moniker! No, he's named after a maelstrom! Cool, huh?!"

"Yeah. Whatever. Why the 'Uzumaki'? He's your kid, so he should be 'Kazama', right?"

Arashi looked down at the kid. "Well… The way I see it, maybe it's better if he isn't too closely affiliated to me, huh?"

Tsunade looked at him sharply, saying, "What do you mean by that? You embarrassed or something?"

The Hokage squirmed a little in his seat, partly due to his discomfort and partially due to the fact that Naruto was flailing his little legs rather wildly, threatening to deliver a blow to a certain portion of his father's anatomy. One thing was for sure; if the toddler kept this up, he'd be an only kid for life.

"Well, here's the thing. Outside of the village, not a lot of people like me."

"That's the understatement of the century, blondie."

"Hey, hey, let me finish. All I'm saying is that, if he shares my last name, then people will associate him with me right off the bat. If he's got his own name, maybe they'll overlook him. Or, at the very least, they won't catch it right off."

Tsunade scoffed. "Sounds like a long shot to me. Besides, if he's your son, people are already going to be 'associating' him with you, dumb blond."

Arashi recoiled, feeling that the attack on his hair color had been a low blow. "Yeah, I know. I just… I just get the feeling that should be his name. He doesn't need to have my name hanging over him all his life, making him feel that he's got to be as good as his old man, which, frankly, isn't possible. I don't want to pressure the little guy like that. I just want the kid to have a normal ninja life."

Tsunade stared at him for a moment before holding up three fingers. "Three things, kiddo. One, work on your modesty. Two, no ninja life is normal, no matter what you do. And three…" She paused for a long minute, and then gave him a strange, semi-respectful look. "That was deep. You've officially convinced me that you are sapient and do, in fact, have half a brain."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Arashi grinned at Tsunade, who smiled back, then turned his attention back to the boy. "So, 'Uzumaki Naruto'… how's the ramen?"

* * *

AN: This was a weird chapter for me, I shit you not. I mean, angst is all well and good, but I think I might have taken it too far in certain places; be sure to let me know if you agree or disagree, so I can correct it in later chapters. I wrote and rewrote this baby, and then decided what it needed was less depressing parts and a little light humor at the end. And, voila. Not exactly what I envisioned, but passable, nonetheless.

Okay, just a few things to talk about here, then I'm done.

Firstly, you'll have noticed this chapter is fairly short compared to my others. That's because I didn't like it. Yes, you heard me: I didn't like it. It didn't have the right _zing_. I love the end of it, but not the whole angst stuff. Refer to previous paragraph for more details, lol. And I **HATED **the fact that Karada had to die. God knows I was nearly in tears when I wrote the hospital scene. But, it had to be done... I just don't know if I can live with myself… But the next chapter should be of standard length, or possible a little longer as an apology for the long wait you guys suffered.

Which brings me to another thing: **VOTING TIME**!

**Whoever wants more details concerning Naruto childhood, let me know. **

**Whoever wants to get the main plot quicker, again, let me know.**

I just need to know what to write. So, read, review, rinse, and repeat.

Secondly, I got a _lot _of different opinions concerning the Harem. I won't list them or anything, but there's a lot of variety. So, what I'm thinking is maybe we should try this differently. I'll tell you what I was thinking about, and you can tell me what you think of it. But, remember, I get to pick!

First off, Anko. Because she's just that cool. That, and she reminds me a lot of Karada:D Secondly… I'm thinking Ino. Again, got that strong personality, and there's a lot of potential in the girl. Thirdly… Probably… Um… I _want _to do Tayuya, but I just don't see how that'd work out without some serious plot-finagling on my part. I'd put these magic fingers of mine to the limit with that, but it _can be done!_

So, that would be my preferred harem. Again, not necessarily the actual thing. Lemme know if there are any suggestions or whatnot. I'll be happy to return your calls, I mean, reviews.

Lastly… I don't know how many of you noticed, but I totally and completely forgot about Kakashi in my first two chapters. Talk about stupid! So, I tried to save my sorry ass with the whole 'long term mission' spiel, but… I don't think it worked too well. So, for all you Kakashi lovers out there: **SORRY!** I'll give him a major role in Naruto's upbringing, how 'bout dat?

Anyways, it's been grand. 'Til next time, peoples.

_Gaereth_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Lazy Chuunin and Traitorous Shinobi.

AN:This chapter has put me past the 200,000 word mark for my user! That's a lot of words, eh? I hope to write many, many more, and I hope you all will read them! Thanks for being such great readers! And now, onto the story!

* * *

Nara Takumaru groaned softly, repositioning the stack of papers in his arms as he climbed yet another stairway. Like the rest of his clan, he had inherited an incredible aptitude for laziness, and was not usually awake anytime before noon. But now, here he was, up with the sun and delivering papers. _'This is just not my day.' _He thought to himself quietly, suppressing a yawn as he reached the top of the staircase and turned into the hallway. 

He was getting close, now. True to his character, he meandered lazily down the curved corridor, knowing that his destination would still be there when he got there. No need to hurry, right?

Wrong.

He paled as he remembered one very important fact. Maya was in charge of staff today, since Takahashi was out on a mission. And if there was one thing Maya hated, it was slackers. Which meant that she had made it her personal mission to force Takumaru into unwanted punctuality. If he showed up late, and she found out… His face went white as a sheet. She'd probably put him janitor duty again! Kami, anything but that!

With a speed and dexterity he didn't know he had, he raced down the hallway, balancing the papers precariously in his arms. He counted the doors as he whipped past them, looking for the right one. One door… Two… Three… With a startled gasp, he realized that he had gone too far! _'Dammit!' _he thought to himself as he backpedaled, _'why do all these doors look the same?!' _Finally, he reached the right door and slid to a stop, panting and breathing heavily. After taking a short moment to regain his breath, he freed an arm and knocked softly on the door.

No reply. He knocked again, harder. When that produced no answer, he leaned towards the door and said loudly, "Hokage-sama?"

Still no reply. _'Fine,' _Takumaru thought to himself, _'be that way.'_

Ignoring the unwritten rule about entering the Hokage's office uninvited, he shoved the door open and sidled through, too focused on keeping his load balanced to observe his surroundings. With a groan of effort and a relieved sigh, he reached the desk and carefully placed the papers on it. "Here's the morning agenda, Hokage-sama. Will there be-" He froze in mid-sentence, suddenly realizing something very important was absent.

The Yondaime Hokage was nowhere to be seen.

He blinked, and then groaned once more. This wasn't the first time this had happened. Far from it, actually. For the past six months, ever since the Kyuubi attack, the Yondaime had spent most of his time out of the office, which vexed the Counsel members to no end. And they, in turn, took out their frustration on the staff by doubling their workload. But… Try as he might, Takumaru couldn't find it in him to blame the Hokage. Acting off a suspicion, he had once discovered that whenever the Hokage was nowhere to be found, his son, Uzumaki Naruto, was gone as well.

Uzumaki Naruto. The Kyuubi kid. The constant reminder of that terrible, terrible day.

His face darkened for a moment, but cleared almost immediately. Along with the bad traits of the Nara family, he had also received some of the good qualities, not the least of which was clarity of mind and the ability to think abstractedly. He knew that the contained, not the container, was the true enemy. But most either did not realize it, or they could not accept it…

He thrust the topic away from his mind and concentrated on the matter at hand. Namely: what the hell he was supposed to do now that the Yondaime was gone. He was supposed to have these reviewed, signed, and delivered before noon. But no Hokage meant no signature, and no signature meant that he was screwed. He turned away from the desk with a deep sigh, taking refuge in the fact that his day could get no worse than it already was.

Then he saw Maya standing in the open doorway, tapping her foot impatiently and staring at him with eyes that spoke of impending lectures.

Scratch that. His day had officially gotten worse.

* * *

Kakashi smiled and ruffled the boy's hair, easily avoiding the lad's grasping hands. However, Naruto was not to be so easily dissuaded, and reached out with renewed effort, determined to see what lay beneath Kakashi's mask. With an effort born of desperation, the two foot tall blonde leapt into the air, his tiny hand reach out, fingers closing… on nothing. Despite his labors, all Naruto had gained was wasted effort and what was starting to look like a particularly nasty fall. He had landed on his small feet badly and had slipped, falling backwards. 

With reflexes and speed honed from his experience with ANBU, Kakashi swooped down and scooped up the lad, holding him firmly yet gently. Naruto giggled and snatched at his mask again, nearly catching it, but Kakashi wasn't about to fall for that. He set the blonde carefully back on the ground, chuckling at his determined, yet futile efforts.

"Nice save, Kakashi." the white-haired ANBU captain grinned at the voice of his sensei, but didn't turn away from Naruto. Reaching into a pouch, he seized a small scroll and pulled it out, tossing it lightly over his shoulder. He heard Arashi snatch it out of the air and pocket it, and then he turned all of his attention back to Naruto, who was sitting on the ground and staring at a nearby spider web in childlike fascination. There was a rustle of robes, and the Yondaime Hokage had joined them, still dressed in his robes of state, holding the wide-brimmed Hokage hat lightly in a calloused hand.

Naruto, no longer interested by the spider web, had noticed the arrival of the newcomer. With a scream of "Da-da!" he launched himself at Arashi, latching onto the blonde Hokage's legs. Kakashi looked on with mixed joy and envy as Arashi, dropping his hat, picked Naruto up and twirled him around, the blonde child squealing with glee as he flew through the air. Soon, it was almost as if Kakashi had been forgotten, which was fine by him. This was their time.

He walked over to a tree and sat down, resting in its shade as he watched the father and son play. As Arashi gave his son a piggyback ride around the shaded park, Kakashi found that he couldn't repress a feeling of sorrow. He was happy for them, and he was overjoyed that Arashi had found something to be happy about, but… He just couldn't help remembering his own father. Hatake Sakumo, Konoha's White Fang. As Kakashi looked back over the years and dug up old memories, he found that he still missed his father. Sakumo hadn't been the best dad, but… Kakashi just wished that he had stayed around a while longer. Kakashi had been at the tender age of four when his father had killed himself from his shame, and he knew better than any that no child should grow up parentless, like he had.

But Naruto… Naruto had his father. Naruto would be fine.

He knew it.

A tenor laugh drew his attention back to the frolicking duo. Arashi, seeing that his son was starting to get tired, had scooped up his son and cradled him gently in his arms. Naruto, obviously tuckered out, had popped a thumb in his mouth and gotten comfortable, provoking a laugh from his father. Soon, the lad was off in dreamland, exhausted from his rigorous playing.

Kakashi stood and moved to join Naruto, nodding when Arashi brought a finger to his lips in a request for silence. Moving his hand into a seal, Arashi nodded at Kakashi and disappeared in a flash of golden light. The copy ninja sighed and walked over to a nearby bench, knowing that Arashi was just getting Naruto back to the nursery, and would be back shortly. Well, he had time enough to read the next chapter…

Sure enough, the blonde Hokage was back within ten minutes, having changed clothes after dropping Naruto off. He had exchanged robes of red and white for simple clothes of shinobi black, with the only exceptional garment being a long coat. This coat was similar to his other one, which was white with red flames bordering the bottom, except that this coat colored black, with a simple orange spiral emblazoned on the back of it. Kakashi looked at him with raised eyebrow. The white-haired Jounin had not seen this coat before; it had obviously been attained while he had been on his mission.

As Arashi strode over to the bench and seated himself, languishing comfortably on the hard wooden surface, Kakashi merely turned back to his book. _'Oh, Kami, this is an amazing chapter!' _Kakashi thought to himself excitedly, turning a page. His jaw dropped in astonished awe. _'Whoa! It's got ILLUSTRATIONS! I love this thing!' _Glad that his mask hid his slight nosebleed, he read on, his eye reading and rereading every precious line, memorizing each juicy detail.

Then, without warning, the book was plucked from his unresisting hands by Arashi. But it was not for nothing that Kakashi was a Jounin. With reflexes and speed that made lightning look slow, he tried to snatch the novel away from his mischievous teacher, but his grasping hands closed on nothing but air as his sensei leapt away. Righteous anger flaring in his lone eye, he watched as Arashi sat atop a tree some thirty feet away, and he idly wondered if it was against the law to strangle the Hokage with his own intestines. Knowing Konoha, it probably was. Damn this country and its stupid laws against homicide!

"Huh, never seen this before." He heard his teacher's voice clearly despite the distance, and saw as Arashi began to thumb through the pages, reading the occasional sentence. Shortly, an impressed whistle echoed throughout the park, and Kakashi, powerless to stop him, was forced to listen to his sensei complimenting on the white-haired Jounin's favorite pastime. "Damn. That's something else. Huh, I've seen better artwork. That's been done before. That one, too. Hey, that position isn't even possible! Whoa, is her leg _in_… No, wait, that's just his arm. Oh, that's hilarious!"

Once more resisting the initial urge to disembowel Arashi, Kakashi merely strode up until he was standing next to the tree where his teacher sat, perched like some blonde bird of prey. After a few more minutes of unwanted commentary, Arashi leapt down to the ground and handed Kakashi's book back to him, a smirk on his face and mischief in his eyes. Seizing his book back and cradling it in his arms, Kakashi threw an angry glare at his teacher, which was promptly ignored.

"All in all, not such a bad book," said Arashi, taking a seat in the grass under the shady tree, "Who wrote it?"

Kakashi, letting bygones be bygones, sat down next to Arashi and pocketed the orange novel with a longing sigh. "Don't you know? Jiraiya-sama wrote it."

Arashi blinked for a moment in shock, and then relaxed as memory returned. "Oh, yeah, I had forgotten about it. I thought that was a joke… Well, it isn't half bad. Some of it is a little outrageous, but a man can dream, especially one of Jiraiya's caliber." He gave a yawn and stretched again, his muscles aching from a long day's work. Kakashi merely sat quietly, wondering whether or not he should say anything. However, Arashi took the decision out of his hands and said, quietly, "I'm glad you're back, Kakashi. Did your mission work out?"

The white-haired Jounin shrugged lazily, feeling rather lethargic. "Of course. I'm Copy Ninja Kakashi, remember?"

There came a light laugh from Arashi, whose eyes were closed in relaxation. "Oh, so you heard about your new nickname? I heard you were just added to the Mist and the Cloud Bingo books. That makes a total of… what, four villages that hate your guts?"

"Five. Remember that incident in Grass?"

"Oh, yeah. Good times."

"Good times."

Conversation lagged for a time as both dredged up older, happier memories. The birds chirped softly, the trees rustled in the breeze, and a lone child was making his way across the park, chasing a squirrel with a rather large stick.

Idly watching the kid pursue the rodent, Kakashi decided to take up the task of opening a dialogue with his seemingly stoic tutor. "So… Naruto is… what, a year old now?"

Without opening his eyes, Arashi answered, "Fourteen months."

"Oh. Well… he seems like a good kid."

"Yep."

"He definitely looks like you…"

"…"

"He's got your eyes and your hair…"

"…"

"But… whenever I see him, the first thing I think of is how much like Karada he is... or will be, I guess."

"…"

"I know it's been hard for you this past year. I just… I know how you feel. Y'know, to have lost people."

"...z…"

Kakashi opened his eye and turned towards his teacher, wondering what that strange snort he had heard was. But there was no one there besides them two, and Arashi had his eyes closed tightly in concentration. Or…

"…zzz…"

The bastard was asleep.

A resounding THWACK echoed through the park as Jiraiya's novel was put to a use it was not intended for: bludgeoning lazy Hokages. The orange book smacked squarely into Arashi's jaw, rousing the blonde shinobi from dreamland and putting him into a world of pain.

Arashi slowly turned his head to look at his traitorous student and glared hard at him, mouthing a long "OOooooowwww…" But the copy ninja did not share in his pain; he merely pocketed the novel once more, satisfied that justice had been served. The blonde Hokage couldn't repress a wry smirk, knowing that it was a blow he richly deserved.

"Okay, okay," he muttered, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. What were you going to say?"

Kakashi sighed a little, knowing that the moment was lost. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. You want to go get some ramen?"

Immediately, Arashi's drowsiness disappeared. He jumped to his feet, a passionate fire in his azure eyes, and he flashed his erstwhile student an emphatic thumbs-up. "You know it! There's a great place that just opened up, Ichiraku's Ramen! Let's get going, quickly, before they run out of noodles! But you're buying!"

Torn between amusement at Arashi's antics and sorrow from knowing his wallet was soon to be empty, the white-haired teenager stood to his feet. "Fine, fine. But, whatever happens, don't do that again."

"Eh? Do what, now?"

"You know… the thumbs-up and grinning-like-an-asylum-escapee thing. You look too much like Gai."

Arashi's brow furrowed in thought. He wasn't very familiar with the name. "Gai?"

"Maito Gai."

"Nope, not ringing any bells."

"Green spandex, huge eyebrows, bowl cut."

Enlightenment dawned on Arashi's features. "Oh, that guy! Didn't he make it to Special Jounin? Huh… I had forgotten him."

Kakashi frowned as painful memories resurfaced. "Wish I could forget him. He's declared himself my 'eternal rival', much to my dismay."

"Hah!" the blonde Hokage couldn't help but laugh at the idea. Kakashi and Gai couldn't be any more different. "I'd love to see you two spar! That'd be something else. From what I remember, he was a Taijutsu specialist, right?"

"Yeah, that's him." Kakashi smirked under his mask. "He heard that I had gotten a nickname, so he made himself one. Now he's the 'Beautiful Green Beast of Konoha'."

Arashi repeated the words slowly to himself, not sure what to say. "Well… it's a mouthful, that's for sure." He thought about the spandex-clad Chuunin for a moment longer, than shook his head to clear it. After all, there was ramen to be had! Not just any ramen, either: Free Ramen! "C'mon, let's get that ramen."

Kakashi grinned at his sensei's antics, and followed Arashi down the road, reaching into his pocket for his Icha Icha Paradise book. But, when he felt in his pocket for it, it was gone! There was nothing but some spare ryo and a couple of soldier pills. Frowning, he checked his other pockets, even his flak jacket, but he couldn't find it. Where was it? Did he leave it at the tree? Had it slipped out of his pocket? _Where was it?!_

A chuckle from Arashi got his attention. Glancing at his sensei, he saw that he was holding the aforesaid adult novel high above his head, dangling it by two fingers. "Looking for this, Kakashi?" said the Yondaime, a cheerful tune to his voice.

Gritting his teeth in anger, Kakashi said in a dangerous tone "Give. It. Back."

Arashi stopped walking and turned towards Kakashi, acting like he was deep in thought. "Hmmm… No. No, I don't think I will, sorry."

"This isn't funny, sensei! Give it back!"

"Nope, nothing doing." Arashi playfully tossed the adult novel from one hand to another, a small smile gracing his lips. "You can't read this stuff, delightful as it might be, for two excellent reasons."

The white-haired jounin glowered darkly at his sensei. "What do you mean, two reasons?"

"Exactly what I said! Need a dictionary, genius?" the blonde Hokage chuckled at his weak joke, but stopped when he saw Kakashi's expression. "Fine, fine. My first reason; you're too young. You're only fifteen, kiddo, and you got a while yet before you're reading this stuff." Kakashi tried to interrupt, but Arashi kept going. "But my second reason is even more important."

He paused for a moment. Kakashi, curious despite himself, encouraged him to continue. "Well? What is it?"

That was his cue. Striking a dramatic pose, like some philosopher preparing to impart some great wisdom, he spoke clearly and slowly: "Because I say so!"

They held their positions for a moment longer, the younger shinobi staring at his senior with his eye wide open in incredulous shock. Then, unable to contain their mirth, they collapsed into uncontrollable laughter. Once they had finished, they resumed their leisurely pace towards the Ichiraku's ramen stand, Kakashi taking the lead as Arashi slowed slightly.

The blonde Hokage, his face now filled with an empty sadness, eyed his student mournfully. He had not been asleep earlier, merely pretending; he had not spoken then because he could not trust his voice. His heart was still broken, dashed into pieces. It had been a little over a year since Kara-chan had… He sighed deeply, wondering if he'd ever recover. Even now, he would wake up at nights and wonder where she was, before reality overtook him once more. Many was the time he would turn to say something to her… and she wouldn't be there. And it always took him a moment to remember why. But when he did…

He wished he could bring himself to speak with Kakashi about it, but he knew that, despite the young Jounin's many losses, he would never understand how badly it hurt when the bond between lovers was severed. But, he was grateful to Kakashi, very much so, for trying to help him. But… there was something that Arashi had to suffer alone.

No. Not alone. He had Naruto.

Naruto…

Suddenly, he realized that Kakashi was saying something, probably about the slow walk he had adopted. He shook his head and picked up the pace, cloaking his sorrow under a mask of cheerfulness once again. After all, there was ramen to be had, and he had a sucker to foot the bill for him. For now, all was well.

* * *

Arashi stood over the bed of his son, his eyes filled with an inhuman rage. In his hand, a three-pronged kunai glistened dully, coated with dark blood. His Jounin gear was splashed with blood and gore, and the smell of death was in the air. Scattered about the floor behind him were pieces of things that were once human; the blackish blood, the white bone, the dark clothing stained even darker. They had been slain brutally, messily, and without mercy. They had experienced firsthand the penalty for daring to harm the son of the Yondaime Hokage of Konohagakure. 

Behind him, Kakashi was kneeling and examining the remnants, trying to discern the identities of the attackers. Picking up a severed head, he turned it this way and that in his hands, examining it critically. His eyes narrowed as he saw the forehead protector, which was marked with the symbol of Kumogakure. Most shinobi would have considered that definitive proof as the identity of the attackers, but Kakashi was not so sure. Even though they were actively hostile with Cloud Village, he found it hard to believe that ten shinobi, all at the ANBU level, had been able to infiltrate Konoha so easily. Not only that, but to try and assassinate Naruto? Why not kill Arashi, or the counsel Members? For that matter, why not kill him? After all, he had slain quite a few of their shinobi, and their hatred for the 'Copy Ninja' was second to none.

He had a sneaking suspicion that the enemy was closer to home than the distant north. Slowly, he dipped a finger into a puddle of blood that was pooled on the floor, courtesy of one of the 'Kumo-nin'. He lifted it up to his nose and took a careful sniff, channeling chakra to increase his already excellent sense of smell. Hmmm… Very strange. Most shinobi, especially those of Jounin level, learn that it is sometimes wise to enhance their abilities by the usage of certain drugs. Soldier pills is one such example, even though it was not so much of a drug as it was a strong dose of caffeine and proteins. After fighting so many Kumo-nin, he was used to the smell of their blood, which carried traces of the secret drugs used by their village. He could discern no such traces in this sample.

However, he could smell something. This blood belonged to a Konoha shinobi or a missing ninja from the same village. He had followed his nose, and it had given him a very valuable clue.

Flicking the blood off his finger, he reached out and seized an equipment pouch from its former owner, who had suffered a full-powered Rasengan at close range and had not survived the encounter. Opening it, he dumped the contents out on the floor: three kunai, five shuriken, a dormant explosion note, two smoke bombs, and a small case. He smirked, knowing that all the information he needed to confirm his suspicions were right here.

First, he examined the kunai, checking the weight and balance of it. It was the standard innocuous shape, and the metal used was standard. No help there. However, the shuriken gave him more information. The shuriken used by Konoha were slightly heavier than those used by most other villages, making for a better impact. These were lighter than normal, and the curve of the four blades was slightly different. This was an authentic Cloud village shuriken. Interesting.

Now, the final test. He grabbed a smoke pellet and held it to his nose, sniffing carefully. It was definitely of Cloud make. The soldier pills, as well. He leaned back on his haunches, considering the options. The shinobi themselves were obviously from Konoha, but the equipment and the gear was almost certainly from Cloud. They were authentic, not just poor copies like he had hoped. Was Kumogakure hiring Konoha missing-nins to assassinate for them? That would explain things. But… these shinobi had been at least Special Jounin in strength. There weren't ten unaccounted missing-nins of that level running around, at least, not ten from Konoha.

There was only one realistic possibility left.

Traitors.

He stood and strode over to Arashi, who was still staring at his son impassively. The copy ninja looked down at the young boy who they had fought to defend. Naruto was nearly three years of age, and he had grown a little bit while Kakashi had been at the front line. His grey eye ran over the whiskered face, the tousled blond hair, the soft grin the boy wore as he dreamed. He couldn't help but smile at the sight, wondering if he had ever been that innocent. Or that clueless to his surroundings. The boy had slept right through the fight, which was undoubtedly a good thing. The last thing Kakashi wanted to do was burden the child with the harsh realities of the world. He had been a little over a year older than Naruto when he had walked into his father's room that fateful day. The sight of Sakumo's dangling corpse was one that still haunted him, and did not want Naruto to be scarred by such sights.

Footsteps coming from down the darkened street told him that Pakkun had delivered his message successfully. Within seconds, the Toad Sannin was with them, a Rasengan already swirling in his hand. However, his readiness to fight faded when he saw the tattered bodies, knowing that there was no need for his skills now. Dispelling the jutsu, he surveyed the battleground with an impassiveness born from decades of combat experience.

"I got your message, Kakashi. I see you were able to handle them." Kakashi nodded silently in reply to Jiraiya's question, walking over to join the white-haired Sannin.

"Yes," said Kakashi softly, "Sensei and I were able to dispatch them."

"Good." Jiraiya bent down and examined a blood-spattered forehead protector, noting the symbol on it with distaste. "Cloud, eh? Those slimy bastards! How did they weasel their way into the village? Bad security?"

Kakashi said nothing for a moment, waiting until he had Jiraiya's attention. "Actually," he said slowly, "I don't think they did sneak into the village."

Jiraiya lifted a single eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Kakashi hesitated, arranging his thought so they made more sense, then began explaining, his voice a steady monotone. "There were ten shinobi, all dressed in Jounin gear from Kumogakure. They were equipped with weapons and supplies from the same village. However, upon a closer examination of the corpses, I discovered that they are not actually from Cloud village."

Jiraiya frowned, knowing where this was going. "So… You're saying that these were just common assassins, masquerading as Kumo Jounin?"

"Not exactly," replied the Copy Ninja, "these were no common assassins. These were shinobi who received their training from Konoha. That means…"

"..They're either deserters or traitors." Jiraiya finished Kakashi's thought grimly. If there was one thing the Toad Sannin hated, it was a traitor. He had seen too many 'loyal' comrades turn out to be backstabbing cowards. Even Orochimaru… he shook his head, refusing to finish that thought.

"Root." The single word was spoken quietly, but it was spoken in such forceful anger that Kakashi stiffened instinctively, a chill running down his spine. In unison, Kakashi and Jiraiya turned towards Arashi, who hadn't moved from his place. The blonde Hokage spoke again, hissing the words from between clenched teeth. "It was Root, wasn't it?"

Kakashi nodded slowly. "That would make the most sense. Since they are directly linked with ANBU, it would be easy to acquire weapons and armor from the dead enemies. It would also explain the unusual strength of the attackers, and why their disguise was so perfect. However, they would not have known that the Cloud were about to send an ambassador to discuss a peace treaty. Why would they bother if they were merely planning to assassinate your son?"

The Toad Sannin gritted his teeth in anger, realizing the depths of Root's treachery. "I see. So they kill off Naruto, which forces Arashi to continue the war for personal reasons as well as political. In any war, the military gains power over the political government, which would give the slimy bastard the edge he needed to take over. And one day, when most of our forces are attacking Kumogakure…"

Kakashi fingered a kunai, starting to get mad himself. "…they kill off whoever opposes them and instate their own government."

For a moment, no one said anything. Then Arashi reached out a hand to touch Naruto's cheek, as if to make sure he was really still okay. But, as his finger brushed the lad's face, it left a streak of blood on it, and Arashi started away. All anger left him temporarily as he stared at his hand in shock. It was coated with blood and gore from his victims. And it wasn't the first time that it had spilled blood; he had killed many men, too many to count. Because he was a Shinobi. But… did he want that kind of life for Naruto? Did he want his son to live with the blood on his hands, like his father?

Would Karada have wanted that for him?

He shook his head violently, summoning up the righteous anger once more. Turning to his sensei and his student, he strode angrily over to them and began to give orders. "Kakashi, I want you to get to the village gates. From there, summon your dogs and get them to patrol the wall for any unfamiliar or hostile shinobi. Don't let anybody in or out of the village, no matter who they are or what they look like. And do this alone; we don't know who we can trust." Kakashi nodded and sprinted away, running as fast as he could towards the village gate.

Arashi faced his former sensei, who was eyeing him concernedly. He ignored the unspoken question and said, "Ero-sensei, I need you to round up Koharu and Homura. I want them in custody tonight, until we figure out just how deep this rotten root goes. Grab whatever Jounin you feel are trustworthy and send them out on patrol. They are to take any unauthorized or suspicious person into custody. Can you do it, Jiraiya?"

The Toad Sannin nodded, but he was inwardly worried for his student. "Yes, I can do it. But… what will you do, Arashi?"

The Yondaime Hokage turned and surveyed the room once more before answering Jiraiya. "All good roots stay in the ground, so the tree can grow tall and strong. Now, we have a root that seeks to become its own tree. I won't let our tree die because of one bad root. I'm going to take the problem out at the source."

"By this time tomorrow, Root will no longer exist."

* * *

AN: Oh, God, I can't describe to you how sorry I am to have kept you all waiting. Not only that, but this chapter is only half the length of my normal chapters! I feel terrible for not giving you a full-length chapter after all this time, but I just have so much stuff on my plate. Between college, homework and life in general, I hardly have any time to myself these days. For example, I spent all last week studying for a math test that I barely passed. Yeah. Life sucks, and I'm sorry I couldn't write enough. 

Um… I think there is some good news, though. Soon, I hope to be able to find more time to write things! Now that the initial rush of this college semester is over, there should be more time that I can use in more pleasurable activities, like writing. And, since this story is my main focus, at least 75 of my writing time will be in this one. So, hopefully, that means quicker updates.

Okay, I made a poll for this story. It's basically a list of girls that Naruto could end up with, and you can choose up to five out of a list of ten or so. Check that out, leave your opinion, all that jazz. The poll is embedded in my Forum, which was just recently made. It's called "Gaereth's Stories". Pretty orignial name, eh?

I'm still in the market for a new beta, if anyone is interested. Ever since JohnnyG left, I've been operating solo, but it would be nice to have someone check my work, tell me what they think… y'know, the works. Drop me a line if you're interested. And, as always, please read and review! Thanks in advance!

'Til next time,

Gaereth

P.S. I told you I'd make up for Kakashi's absence in the first few chapters! Talk about involvement, right?


	5. Chapter 5

Will of Fire

Chapter 5: A Traitorous Tool.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or any connected characters and ideas, but I do own this story and any original characters, so please ask before using them.

AN: Sorry about the hugely long wait, people, but here's the next chapter of Will of Fire. I hope you all enjoy it, and there's a large bit of foreshadowing in here, so be prepared. Don't forget to review! It helps me write faster. )

It was a beautiful room. Large and ornate, but at the same time modest in its simplicity. The vaulted ceiling was covered in flowing flames, each plume intricately detailed and realistic. The floor was covered with large, soft rugs, which had been handmade by the most skilled weavers in Rice country. Life-size statues of the former Hokages stood in the four corners of the room, each one portrayed with peaceful smiles on their faces, rather than the ferocious grimace adopted by many shinobi leaders. Trophies and portraits decorated the walls, featuring all four Hokage's in various states of splendour and refinement. There was an especially new addition, showing the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, standing side by side with the Fourth Kazekage, both of them sharing the same cheerful grin. But the painter had brought out the sadness behind the smiles, shone light upon the dark times that the two leaders had been through. Though their countries were at peace, the shadows of men long since dead still hung over them. Truly, to be a Kage was more a curse than a blessing, and the mantle of leadership hung heavy on these two.

Why was this room so decorated, you might ask? Well, it had to be so. This was the Foreign Diplomacy room, where great men and women labored long over countless treaties. Sadly, many of those treaties died stillborn, and though time healed the rift and brought peace once again, the men and women who signed those treaties knew that they had been bought with a price too heavy to bear, and that blood had been shed for the sake of their predecessors stupidity, pride and arrogance. But still, the Hokages always sought peace first, and so forgave the erring ways of their peers, both small and great. It was here that the Great Shinobi Wars met their end, here that the Avalanche of the Stone Village was halted, here that the Mist's Tsunami was finally quelled. Through the use of strength, wisdom and compromise, the Hokage's labored night and day to make and maintain peace with the other villages, for the sake of everyone involved and for the sake of their children. It was here that peace and war coincided, a dichotomy of chaos that had enveloped the Five Great Villages and their smaller compatriots for nearly a hundred years.

This room was more than beautiful to the eye. It was a balm to the soul, a silent testament to the men that were lost and the blood that was shed in the sake of war, and it showed how even in the depths of darkness, the Will of Fire could yet shine a light that would never be quenched. For if that light went out, so did the soul and center of peace in their world.

It was truly a beautiful room.

But, at that moment, Minato couldn't have cared less.

The door was violently flung open, the solid oak slamming into the wall with enough force to dent it, marring the artistic design of the wallpaper. Storming through it in a passion, he hurled himself onto one of the luxurious couches that lined the walls, his eyes aflame with anger and resentment. The night was not yet done, but justice had already begun to walk the city, driving out the evil that had struck so cruelly at Minato's family. At his son. His only son. Uzumaki Naruto.

The bastards had daredto attack his _son_! _His SON! _Did they honestly think that they'd get away with it? Did they even for one moment contemplate the possibility of victory? Not while he lived and breathed, dammit! He'd fucking _destroy _them, raze their entire orginization to the ground, burn the ashes again, and scatter the remnants to the four winds. He'd be _damned _if he let them get away with this! Those skulking, secretive _bastards _and their arrogant, smirking leader. They would all _die! _He'd see each and every one them killed like a dog! _ALL OF THEM!_

Danzou. He was the problem. He had been from the beginning. Minato had no idea how Sarutobi had mustered the fortitude to put up with his insubordination and presuming ways time and time again. _No more._ This was the end of Danzou, and his precious Root with him. Already Minato's faithful elite were scouring them out, capturing them, slaughtering them if they showed even the slightest sign of resistence. There would be no mercy this night. Tonight, the Will of Fire was not the peaceful and comforting light that shone in a darkened world. No. It was the fires of Justice, a blaze that couldn't be quenched, couldn't be stopped, until every last shred of Danzou's influence was purged from this village.

_He'd kill them. Kill them for daring to touch his son._

"Minato!" Kakashi sprinted into the room, his silver hair streaked with blood. "Jiraiya has-" he stopped dead in midpace, his eyes widening in sudden shock. He saw Minato seated on the couch, head in his hands, eyes alight with a strange fire. Then there was a flash of gold that seemed to blind him completely, and then Minato was gone, and Kakashi felt the cold touch of a steel kunai pricking his jugular vein. Just like that. There was no time to react, no time to think... nothing. Kakashi, a shinobi with vast experience, considered a genius by his peers in the art of shinobi warfare, was completely terrified of his own teacher.

_Those eyes... They were the eyes of a fierce god..._

_Or of a demon..._

"Kakashi." Minato muttered in Kakashi's ear, a surprised inflection in his voice, as if he had mistaken Kakashi for someone else. The steel left Kakashi's neck, and Kakashi circled about to face Minato, schooling his face into a cheerful mask, stuidiously erasing all signs of the terror that he had felt just seconds ago.

"Who else, Sensei?"

"Always be on guard, Kakashi," said Minato with a smirk, flipping the kunai in the air with practiced ease. "I thought I taught you that a long time ago."

"Indeed you did, sensei," replied Kakashi, before dissapearing in a blur of motion. Snatching the kunai his teacher had tossed from the air, he slid smoothly behind Minato, holding the kunai to his throat in much the same fashion that Minato had used against Kakashi. "Which is why I'm so surprised that you don't pay attention to your own lessons. Sensei."

Minato laughed softly, eyes focused on the ceiling. "Whatever makes you think that I didn't? By the way, Kakashi, why are you trying to kill Sarutobi's statue?" Kakashi blinked his one exposed eye, wondering what the hell his teacher was talking about. Minato continued on undisturbed. "And with a kunai? Come _on, _Kakashi, that's not gonna do much. Try a sledgehammer. More destructive, more powerful, and _infinitely _more fun. Well, so long as you don't have to pick up the pieces."

Kakashi was suspicious. If he didn't know better, he'd say that his sensei was several shuriken short of a holster. But he _did _know Minato, and he knew that when his teacher acted like this, it was because the joke was on you and you didn't know it. _Sarutobi's statue? Don't tell me... _Letting go of Minato's arms, he reached up to his forehead protector, exposing his other eye. It opened, and the Sharingan blazed, letting Kakashi see the truth. Sure enough, he was firmly grappling the statue of the Sandaime Hokage, holding a kunai to the old man's neck. Well, not the neck at first: the beard had gotten in the way, and Kakashi had succeeded in giving the statue a rather messy shave.

_Genjutsu. _Kakashi was flabbergasted. How?

"That's what you'll have to figure out yourself," said Minato, answering his unspoken question. "News?"

Kakashi got down to business. "So far, we have captured four ANBU-class shinobi known to be members of the orginization 'Root'. A further three have are dead."

"In combat?" asked Minato, seating himself on the couch. His face was an emotionless mask.

"Not exactly. While they did die during the combat, it was not because of injuries sustained in the fighting."

Minato sighed. "Suicide?" Kakashi nodded, and Minato cursed. "How the hell does a bastard like Danzo win that kind of loyalty?"

Kakashi merely shrugged. "Some people will follow anyone, sensei. You know that."

"Yeah, I know, but it still bugs me. Life sucks sometimes." Minato grimaced, and then motioned at Kakashi to continue.

"I've received a message from Jiraiya that the elders are safely in his custody, and he's sent Sakaki's fourth squad and Nemoshi's tactical support team to track down Danzou's location." Minato nodded slightly. Sakaki's squad was notoriously good at stealth and tracking, and Nemoshi's team specialized in Genjutsu and urban combat. Not to mention the fact that Sakaki and Nemoshi often worked together. In fact, Sakaki had once confided in Minato his growing affections towards the attractive genjutsu expert, and Minato had it on good authority that she had long been harboring a secret crush towards his best friend...

But those thoughts were best left for another time.

"Which radio frequency are they using?"

Kakashi's near-perfect memory came through once more. "Delta-36, Hokage-sama. I have a radio here, if you wish to check on their progre-"

"That won't be necessary." The voice was neither Kakashi's nor Minato's, and the two of them immediately frowned in recognition. Even as Kakashi prepared a kunai, Danzou himself entered the room, wearing his customary robes and a look of sadness on his infamously emotionless features. His lone eye was shadowed and bloodshot, and his hand was trembling slightly as he gripped his rough cane shakily.

Minato's eyes narrowed. "Danzou." The one word spoke volumes, making it perfectly clear to the elder shinobi how deeply Minato abhorred everything Danzou and everything he stood for.

Danzou said nothing, merely meeting the Hokage's gaze equitably and silently. That infuriated Minato more than if he had simply attacked him.

"Stand down, Kakashi," Minato growled to his student, who was prepared to kill the elder man where he stood.

"Sensei, this man-"

"I said stand down." Kakashi shivered slightly and slid his kunai back into his holster. He hadn't heard his sensei speak like that since the war. Minato continued. "Go stand guard outside."

That was too much for Kakashi. "But the bastard tried to kill your son! I'm not about to-"

Minato held up a hand, cutting Kakashi off midsentence. "Kakashi. Follow your orders. _Now._"

The copy ninja looked at Danzou with a look of intense loathing, but obeyed his sensei. As the noise of the door slamming died away, the two men stared at each other, faces emotionless. Danzou broke the silence first.

"I appear to have underestimated you somewhat, Minato. I see that you begin to understand that the shinobi way is not a democracy, as you predecessor seemed to believe."

Minato said nothing, but his eyes grew colder.

"Yes," Danzou continued, his eyes never leaving Minato's, "I did indeed order my men to attack your son. I did take steps to put an end to the menace that threatens the village. It was my goal from the start to defend this village by removing that which had once attempted to destroy it, and may well do so again. The fact that the demon lies within your son is regrettable, but such sentiment cannot stand in the way of what must be done, especially when it comes to the welfare of the village. The responsibility was mine, and mine alone. And now I have come to you, defenseless and defeated. What will you do now?"

Neither man blinked. Minato remained silent, but with the air of a lion, crouched and poised to spring.

"My life is in your hands. You have caught me 'red-handed', as I believe the saying goes. You have killed or captured my followers, taking them out one by one. You have personally ordered the destruction of the orginazation I spent decades creating. You have torn asunder in one night that which I built with the sweat of my brow and the blood of our enemies. You have single-handedly destroyed Konoha's best fighting force, which have proved themselves on the battlefield time and time again. During a time of war as well, leaving our village vulnerable and weak."

The tension could've been cut with a knife.

Danzou leaned forward. "_What will you do?"_

Minato's body tensed, his hands contorting into fists, grinding his teeth in fury. Finally, he spoke, his words emerging like a growl.

"_Nothing."_

Whatever answer Danzou was expecting, this clearly wasn't one of them. The old man looked visibly taken aback, a far cry from his usual expression of complete and abolute control. "W-What?" he stammered.

"I will do nothing." replied Minato, forcing himself to relax.

"Nothing? I threaten your family and your village, not to mention your position, and you will do _nothing?!_" quavered Danzou, his only remaining eye wide open in shock.

"Yes," Minato said calmly, now in full control of his anger. Nonchalantly, he took a seat on one of the comfortable armchairs that littered the room and motion Danzou towards the couch, upon which the elder shakily sat.

Leaning back and crossing his legs comfortably, Minato continued, his voice somewhat resembling his normal cheery style of speech. "I will do nothing. Would you like to know why?" he paused for a moment, and then continued without giving Danzou a chance to speak. "I shall tell you."

"Firstly, you hold a great deal of power and respect in this village. Naturally, I could silence you here and now, but there would still be a great many members of this village, most of them high-ranking shinobi, who would treat you as a sort of martyr and seek to carry on your 'legacy'. I'd like to avoid that, for reasons I'm sure you can understand. Secondly, while I personally disagree with nearly everything you stand for, the fact remains is that you are practical, cruelly so in actual fact, and your way of doing things can be quite effective at times. I see no reason why I can't use that to benefit the village as a whole.

"Thirdly, although I have proof that your orginization was indeed responsible for the attempted murder of my son, I have nothing to implicate yourself directly. Of course, being the Hokage, I could kill you anyway and get away with it, but that would go against everything I stand for. And, frankly, killing you isn't worth sacrificing everything _I've _worked for, both as a shinobi and as a human being. I stand for a new way of doing things, just like Sarutobi did, and the Hokage's before us."

Minato gestured at their surroundings. "Look around you, Danzou. What do you see?" Danzou said nothing, merely staring oddly at Minato. The blonde Hokage continued, saying "Let me tell you what I see. I see peace. I see peaceful resolutions to complicated problems. I see the life's work of dedicated men and women who sought an end to nonsensical violence and the self-destructive way of life that we have carved for ourselves over generations. I see the future."

"And you?" Minato said calmly, staring dead into Danzou's eye. "You are a throwback. You are a remnant of what once was, trying to stop the world from changing. I won't let you do that. You say that you tried to kill my son in an effort to 'put an end to the menace', to remove any possibility of the Kyuubi's return and ensuing destruction of this village. But that's not true, is it? Not _really_. You sought war. You hoped that, even if the attack against my son failed, as you probably knew it would, that the elaborate facade you constructed would encourage me to continue this idiotic war against Cloud. You wanted me to turn all of my attention towards the war, and in so doing leave you to your own designs. And then, when the time was right and my forces were depleted from the constant battling, you would strike quickly and efficiently, overthrowing the political government you so despise and erect yourself as the new Hokage. Is that not so?"

"Indeed it is," whispered Danzou, his eye downcast. "It was a necessary course of action."

"Necessary?" queried Minato with an uplifted eyebrow and a sneer. "It was far from that."

"No, I found it to be quite necessary, young Minato," replied Danzou, his voice stronger and his eyes once more meeting Minato's. "This village has grown weak, Minato. I had hoped that, under your leadership, you would stop the encroaching decay that Sarutobi unwittingly encouraged. I had hoped that your youth would not cloud your judgment, hoped that you would do what is necessary. But now, after three full years of your undisciplined leadership, I realize that I was wrong to support your rise to power." He frowned slightly. "Of course, you were my secondary choice. I had hoped that Orochimaru would have succeeded his teacher as the next Hokage. He understood what was needed to run a profitable and prosperous shinobi village, and what sacrifices that would entail."

"Orochimaru understood nothing but his own insatiable lust for power," growled Arashi, his fury coming to the fore once more. "He betrayed his village and his comrades, and rightly deserves his exile."

"Yes, he lusted for power. And it was that very thing that made him into such a useful tool. He could have done wonders for Konoha; with the proper guidance, of course." Danzou riposted, clutching his cane. "But now, after both you and he proved to be failures, I saw that there was really nothing for it but to do it myself. Truly, it is hard to find good help these days." He sighed softly. "When I was young, it was so much simpler. You did what you had to do to protect your village, no questions asked. There were no real rules, besides obeying the chain of command. There was no misguided attempts at bettering the world. There were no _morals_. We were shinobi. Kill or be killed. Conquer, or be conquered. Rule, or be ruled. The Shodaime understood that..."

Danzou fell silent, and Minato leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought.

"No, the Shodaime understood that power was not what was necessary. If it was power he sought, then why did he give to the other villages the greatest power that exists, the Bijuu themselves? He could have turned the demons on the other villages himself, could have crushed them into dust with the power of his bloodline. But he didn't. He wanted peace, and so he shared the power equally among all of the villages."

"If it was peace he sought, all he discovered was war," replied Danzou, pounding the end of his cane against the floor for emphasis. "Even now, the other villages threaten to use that power he gave to them against us. We fight now against Cloud village, and only recently Grass, Rain and Rock where our enemies. The Mist watches us constantly, waiting for a chance to strike, and Sand harbors a deep grievance against us, despite our treaty. The only village that does not actively threaten us is Waterfall, and that's only because they are far too weak to pose a substantial threat. My spies indicate that there is a new village, the Village Hidden in Sound, which was recently formed, and even it has shown passive hostility towards us. Konoha is powerful, and we are hated for it."

Minato stood to his feet, followed by Danzou. "Danzou. Listen well. Yes, we are hated. Yes, we are feared. Yes, it may seem that the only possible retaliation is violence. But that's wrong. If we retaliate, if we answer their hostility with our own, then we shall only be falling into a spiral of vengeance, constantly seeking ways to destroy each other. And no one, not even you, truly wants such a world.

"I'm going to give you a choice, Danzou, here and now. You can spend the rest of your days in comfortable solitude, bereft of all your faithful subordinates and accumulated wealth, penniless and powerless. You will not be harmed, nor will you be coerced into anything. You will not be permitted to leave the village, but that is only due to an understandable desire to ensure that nothing you know is told to anyone else. In time, perhaps you will even be given a modicum of political power once again, provided that you have provided sufficient proof as to your trustworthiness."

"Or?"

"Or you can help me. Help me bring peace to this shattered world. Help me defend our village, not by attacking the other villages first, but through negotiation and treaties. Obviously, should matters degrade to open warfare, that would be a different story, but even then we must try to seek a peaceful resolution to our problems. I can do it alone, but I want your help."

Danzou frowned. "I don't understand. Why would you offer me this?"

There was a long sigh from Minato. "Understand this, Danzou. Every fibre of my being demands your blood, and my fondest wish right now is to see your severed head hanging above the village gates as a constant reminder to my enemies as to what happens to those who dare to threaten my family. But I remember what my sensei taught me: "Never refuse a weapon". And Sarutobi once told me that, even though you were a pain in the ass, there wasn't another man in this world who had your political aptitude and strategical mindset. And there wasn't another man whom he respected more than you, Danzou, even though he hated what you stood for. For his sake, and for the sake of his village, I'm giving you another chance."

Danzou was silent for a long time, his eye examining the room they stood in. But what it came to rest on was the statue of Sarutobi, standing proud and resolute, depicted in the prime of his power. He thought long on the many talks they had had together, the many arguments and verbal duels they had shared. Their viewpoints had differed so much, yet they had the same aims in mind. They both loved the village, and they both saught to protect it, Danzou through force and Sarutobi through peace. But, in the end... Sarutobi was the best friend Danzou had ever known, and a worthy rival. When he died, Danzou had begun to wonder if maybe his friend might possibly have been onto something. He though it was just age weakening his mind, but now... Maybe Sarutobi had been right.

Maybe he had been doing things the wrong way this whole time.

Maybe it _was _time for change. For peace.

"Very well, Minato. Whether I'm seeing the error of my ways, or am simply choosing to live the rest of my days in the manner I have become accustomed to, you'll have to decide that for yourself. All I can say is that I will do what I can for you in this time of need."

Minato smiled slightly. "That's enough for me." But then his face grew more serious. "But Root is at an end. That organization is a threat to this village, and the shinobi who took part in it have forfeited their lives. I want the names and ranks of those in the upper echelon of your group, as well as the names of every shinobi you ever trained, from the smallest to the greatest. And I want them now."

Danzou sighed. "I see. Well, perhaps Root has outlived its usefulness to me. I can give you the names you desire, but on a condition."

Minato's eyes narrowed, taking on a dangerous look. "Are you trying to bargain with me? I wouldn't try it if I were you, Danzou." For an instant, Danzou thought he saw a flash of gold shining from the Hokage's eyes, but he dismissed it as a trick of the light.

"Hardly, Minato. All I ask is that you not kill the shinobi involved. On the whole, they merely saw it as what was most beneficial for Konoha, and thus have proven themselves to be most loyal. Besides, if I give you my support, they will follow in turn. In addition, among those names are some of the most elite members of this village, and I urge you as your new military advisor not to waste such a valuable commodity. Do you really want to kill loyal and powerful shinobi simply because they believed that prosperity for our beloved village took precedence over the village's political structure?"

Minato's eyes narrowed further for a moment then relaxed, and he smiled slightly. "Yes, I suppose you have a point. Fine, I'll spare their lives. I have already repaid in full what vengeance was owed from the attack on my son. All of the men you sent are dead, by the way."

"As I expected," replied Danzou, sighing sadly. "They were good men, but heavily biased. It may hearten you to know that I took volunteers on that mission, and only those who actively wanted to kill your son were sent. In essence, you have done nothing more than remove future and current threats to his livelihood."

Minato smiled, really smiled, for the first time. "That does make me feel a little better. So the bastards volunteered, huh? They got what was coming to them, then. I was hoping they weren't a bunch of over-obedient saps you duped into it by feeding them a tremendous load of bullshit."

"There are many things that I will stoop to," replied Danzou, raising a finger, "especially when it comes to the defence of the village, but I will never lie to my men. If I send them on a mission, I tell them as much as I can concerning the mission, witholding only that information which is on a strictly need-to-know basis. I have done the same with all of my subordinates, and will do so with you as well. I am many things to many men, but to to the shinobi under my command I am fair and just."

"Good to hear," stated Minato, his smile growing. "I will warn you now; I still haven't forgiven you for what you tried to do to my son. Betray me again, and you will die. Are we clear?"

"Perfectly, my intriguing young friend. I would be highly dissapointed were that not the case. I think that this 'alliance' we have settled upon may shed new light on our opposing beliefs." Danzou glanced at the statue of Sarutobi once more, feeling a small pain in his heart. _'Perhaps I should have allied myself to you, my friend. With the both of us working together for the good of the village, I shiver to think what we may have accomplished. But.. perhaps it's not too late to redeem myself...' _The elder man shook his head slightly and turned back to his new ally, a new light in his eye. "Now, I think you were desiring the names of my former comrades..."

"This is utter foolishness, Minato! Surely it is obvious to the even the stupidest of observers that this whole business positively reeks of foul play! They don't want a surrender, or even a ceasefire! They won't stop this war until they get what they want, and that's the reason they suggest this 'solution'." Danzou pounded the floor with his cane for emphasis, his lone eye blazing across the table at his Hokage.

Minato sat heavily in a large chair on the other side of the table, his head in his hand, his tired eyes staring unseeing at the surface of the table. Spread over it were a tremendous amount of topographic maps of the areas where the fighting was greatest, all marked with various strategic points and defensible positions, along with stacks of reports, lists of supplies and weaponry and, to his immense sorrow, a list of casualties. He would give anything to put an end to this war, this senseless waste of life.

"I understand, Danzou," he spoke wearily, "I agree with your summary. By all accounts, I think that Cloud is up to something. But what am I to do? This war must end, and if there is even the slightest chance that I can negotiate a treaty, then I have to pursue it."

"But at what _cost?!_" roared Danzou, gripping his cane until the knuckles of his hand stood out, white against the skin. "You _know _this is almost certainly a trap. You've _seen _the reports, Minato! Cloud has lost none of its aggressiveness over the course of the war. In fact, if anything, they've only grown more hostile and virulent. They've rejected every peace offer we've made, and have shown themselves to be treacherous and underhanded in their tactics." Lowering his voice slightly, Danzou leaned over the table and looked sadly at Minato with his one remaining eye. "My friend... _They're shinobi_. And, as we well know, you cannot trust shinobi. Is that not the case?"

Minato sighed, feeling aged beyond his years. His gut told him that Danzou was right. Cloud had no real intentions of peace, nor was there a significant chance of the war ending until Cloud obtained what it had started the war to get. But, still... he had to try. Wasn't just a month ago that he had faced Danzou in this very room, that night of the attack on his son? Hadn't he gone on and on about his commitment to peace? What was all of that supposed to mean if he didn't follow through on this possible chance to end the war, trap though it almost certainly was?

And that's what it came down to. He knew that Cloud would turn traitorous in a heartbeat, he knew that this emissary was hardly focused on a peaceful resolution, he _knew _that there was almost nothing he could do to end this war besides beating the Raikage into submission with a two-by-four. And even then, it was a long shot, since the Raikage had already proved himself to be in possession of a particularly hard head.

But, damn it all, he had to try this.

He had to _try._

He stood to his feet and walked over to the large statue of Sarutobi, whose beard still hadn't recovered from Kakashi's early attempts at amatuer hairstyling. Minato looked long and hard at the stony face of his predecessor, who had died to save both the village and its new leader. Sarutobi had shown his unshakable trust in the new generation of shinobi, Minato's generation, and had believed in Minato when he hadn't even believed in himself.

If he rejected this supposed peace treaty Cloud was proposing, he would be betraying Sarutobi's trust in him. The Sandaime had always believed in peace, from the very beginning. And Minato knew what very few others knew: the real reason that he had been chosen over Orochimaru to become the Yondaime Hokage was because Sarutobi believed that Minato shared his peaceful beliefs, and could be trusted not to lead the village down the road to destruction. Yes, Minato had been able to best Orochimaru in combat, but that had nothing to do with Sarutobi's decision. Sarutobi had told him once that he had the Will of Fire. For the longest time, Minato had believed that the Will of Fire was his determination and will to succeed. But, now, Minato was wondering if that was all there was to it.

If Sarutobi were still here today, what would he do? Would he reject Kumo's proposal and continue fighting this war, which Konoha would inevitably win, despite the heavy casualties it would incur? Would he continue this senseless waste of human lives, not caring whether they were from Kumo or Konoha?

No. Sarutobi would have accepted their offer. He'd have flung wide the gates of Konoha and welcomed his enemy inside. He would have pursued peace over war, order over chaos, life over death.

And Minato would do the same. To _hell _with his doubts. He'd do this because it was the right thing to do, even if it was stupid, even if it was illogical, even if Danzou screamed at him to do otherwise. Who cares that his gut told him to watch his back? Who _cares _if common sense told him that Kumo would backstab him first chance it got? He was Namikaze Minato, Yondaime Hokage no Konohagakure, and he'd accept their offer.

Because that's what Sarutobi would've done.

No, not just because of that.

Because this is what Minato believed should be done.

Minato turned around and looked Danzou in the eye. "Get Keniko to draw up an acceptance letter. Have it lightly encrypted and dispatched to Kumo using their carrier bird. Make sure that the usual seals are used and nothing else." Danzou nodded slowly, holding Minato's gaze. After a long pause, Danzou spoke softly.

"You're sure? This is what you really want to do?"

Minato sighed and strode to the table, leaning on its smooth, polished surface. "No. It isn't what I want to do. But it's what I have to do."

Danzou looked at him askance for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought. Then he bowed. "As you command, Hokage-sama."

AN: Hey, been a while. So, yeah, I know that the whole thing with Danzou didn't turn out like many of you expected it would. It would've been nice to see Minato turn into this crazy avenging demon out to destroy Root for attacking his son. But, the more I thought about it, the less that idea made sense to me. That just didn't seem like something Minato would do. Oh, he'd want to rip Danzou's throat out, but he wouldn't actually do it, I think. So I wrote something that made more sense, which was him destroying Danzou's orginization from the ground up and giving Danzou the chance to either help him or become powerless. Besides, killing him might make him a martyr, and that's the last thing Minato thinks he deserves. Who knows? Danzou might come in handy...

Next chapter will be the arrival of the emissary, plus the incident of the Hyuuga kidnapping. We'll see how Minato deals with it, and there may be a little bit from Naruto's point of view. I know this story seems to be all about Minato right now, and that's because he is a major player. However, later on, especially as we near the end of the Ninja Academy, it will be all from Naruto's point of view, with a Minato cameo every once in a while. Hope you guys like that.

For those who are interested, there will be updates soon for some of my other stories, like Howl of the Kitsune and The Bloody Mist. I've already started working on chapter 6 for this story, so I hope to get it out within a reasonable timeframe. Once again, thanks a ton for reading, I hope you enjoy, and please take the time to review and let me know what you think. Every review encourages me to work harder. ;P

'Til next time,

Gaereth

EDIT: Got rid of the previous ending for this chapter. I didn't like it before I put it on here, but I kept it anyways. But, after rereading it and seeing some of the reviews people gave me on it, I gave in and got rid of it, replacing it with this ending. It makes the chapter shorter, but I'd rather it be shorter than shitty. Lemme know if you liked this ending better.


	6. Chapter 6

The Will of Fire

Chapter 6: Of Cold Sorrow and Broken Desires.

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Disclaimer: Well, since no amount of negotiating will convince Kishimoto (not even a lifetime supply of miso ramen!), and I need him alive so that the series can continue, I find myself forced to admit that Naruto does not belong to me. Which sucks.

AN: Right, time to see what comes from Minato accepting Kumo's 'peace offering'. And, for those of you who remember the teaser from a while back, you'll finally get to see what's happening to everybody's favorite Hyuuga heiress. Read and enjoy, but don't forget to leave a review! )

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Kakashi looked about him warily, observing the unusual darkness of the air about him. It looked like it was going be one of those nights. As a shinobi, a fighter accustomed to night patrols and other such activities, he had often noticed that the night often had a texture all of its own, a sort of darkness that didn't come from the usual absence of light. There were some nights when, despite the lack of moonshine, the air seemed to be light and silvery. And then there were nights like tonight where, despite the moon's best efforts, the darkness seemed thick and dense, and shadows lurked at every corner.

It didn't bother him much, but there was still something about it that tickled at his shinobi instincts, insisting that not all was well.

It was very annoying.

He sighed softly and shifted his weight slightly, adjusting the ANBU mask that covered his face. He was an the commander of an entire ANBU platoon, and because of that, it had been quite some time since he had performed a task as mundane as guard duty. But, since the arrival of the emissary from Kumo not three days ago, the Yondaime had ordered the number of ANBU on active patrol through the village to be doubled, and guards posted at erratic intervals throughout the city.

Kakashi smirked under his mask. It was one thing to for a shinobi to seek peace, but it was quite another for said shinobi to lower his guard while doing so.

He glanced lazily to his left, checking his subordinates' position. With the help of his Sharingan, he could see the clever Genjutsu that masked the presence of Rei, one of his best masters of illusion. From what little he could see of her, she was alert and on the lookout for the slightest hint of trouble. Good to see that she had such dedication, despite the incredibly boring job she had been assigned. But as for Takumaru...

Kakashi groaned a little under his breath. Just goes to show that you should never assign guard duty to a Nara. The Chuunin had only recently joined ANBU, due almost entirely to the nagging efforts of his soon-to-be-wife, Toriyaka Maya. He showed a surprising amount of skill, especially considering the fact that he had been acting as a mere clerk until a month or two ago, and he had the Nara gift for strategy and clear thinking. Were it not for the infamous Nara laziness...

Nara Takumaru was fast asleep, not fifty meters from the house Kakashi was crouched on top of.

Mumbling an obscenity or two, Kakashi reached down to his pouch and pulled out a small rubber ball. With casual skill, he flicked his wrist and sent the ball hurtling towards the dozing Nara, feeling more than a little satisfied when the small sphere smote the lazy one right between his eyes.

Or, rather, didn't.

Just before the ball hit, Takumaru's hand flashed over and around, seizing the ball without even opening his eyes. With a muted flash of darkened steel, a kunai was out and held at the ready, the Nara assuming a crouched stance. Kakashi quirked an eyebrow in interest; looks like the boy wasn't as unperceptive as he thought.

Takumaru opened his eyes finally, looking out through the eyeholes in his unadorned white mask, the lack of symbols or decoration representing his status as a fresh recruit in the Konoha Black Ops. He stared at the small ball in his hand and look up at his commander, whose mask betrayed no emotion whatsoever.

Kakashi smirked as the Nara met his gaze, but moved his left hand in a vertical slashing motion, a silent command for the Nara to be alert and continue his duties. Takumaru confirmed it by opening and closing his right fist, and then turned away, resuming his task as if the whole thing had never happened.

The Jounin grinned a little and turned away from Takumaru, his mind wandering a bit. His thoughts meandered from topic to topic, idly examining old memories and pondering possible scenarios. More than once, his mind's eye showed him mental images, scenes from his favorite reading material. Since the topic of those books were... _mature _in nature, Kakashi found himself glad he was wearing his mask. After all, it would severely damage his reputation should his subordinates catch a glimpse of Hatake Kakashi, Copy Ninja and ANBU commander, with a slight nosebleed and a healthy blush.

He suppressed a chuckle out of instict, a silent testament to the rigorous stealth training he had undergone as part of the ANBU, and then tensed suddenly.

There had been a slight flicker of movement in the shadows of the street.

Using his peripheral vision, he watched for any further movement, remaining absolutely motionless.

There it was again. Definite movement at the mouth of a small alley, approximately sixteen meters from his current position. His mind quickly diagnosed the situation, and he scowled. The positioning of his forces in this area made it impossible for his two nearest subordinates to see that alley. Furthermore, the angle was poor; long-range fighting was impractical, if still technically possible.

His most practical option was an entrapment formation, with himself as point.

He _hated _entrapment formations.

Smothering a frustrated sigh, he raised his hand to his transceiver, his index finger pressing the transmit button on the tiny device.

"Scales, Shadow, status."

There was a hint of static as Rei made her reply. "It's 'Chameleon', Commander. Ready for anything." Kakashi grinned under his mask. If there was one quirk he had that irked his subordinates, other than his choice of reading material, it was his habit of taking their shinobi codenames, which were along the lines of Bear, Monkey, Hare, and other such wildlife, and turning them into whatever he pleased. Takumaru, who'd been assigned the codename 'Panther', had been given the prestigious title of 'Shadow'. As for 'Chameleon', well, from that to 'Scales' was but a step.

Just another of the many perks of being the boss.

Takumaru was late responding. Kakashi could _see _the Nara, so he knew nothing had happened to him. _"Kid's probably daydreaming again."_

"Shadow, come in."

A pause, then a second crackle of static. "Shadow here. Ready for a nap."

There was the sound of a indignant huff from Rei. "A _nap_? This is the ANBU, Panther. We don't do _naps._"

"Everybody has to sleep sometime, Chameleon-san."

"Sleep on your own time, newbie. We're in the middle of a job here, in case you were too lazy to notice. So wake the hell up and _focus_, or your ass is mine. Get it?"

There was a moment of silence. But, smart though the Nara was, he just didn't know when to call it quits. "So sorry, senpai. I would never have said that if I knew it was your time of the month."

Kakashi sighed. Enough was enough. Pressing the transmit button once more, he quickly interrupted Rei's enraged retort. "Cut the chatter, you two. Don't argue in front of our guest."

His subordinates went quiet. Kakashi had used code in that last transmission. Not only had he commanded radio silence, but he had implied the presence of an unknown intruder. A _nearby _intruder at that, hence the usage of the words 'in front'. The fact that it also made for a handy reprimand was merely a coincidence.

Now that Kakashi had their attention, it was time to get down to business.

In a swirl of air, his two subordinates were crouched beside him on the rooftop, eyes focused on their leader. He nodded in the direction of the alleyway and then began a series of small gestures, part of a secret ANBU sign language designed for use in situations that required stealth. They nodded and then vanished as quickly as they had come, executing their parts of the plan he had selected.

Strategic Entrapment Tactic number fourteen, designed for use in urban situations. Kakashi would confront the intruder directly, with Takumaru providing mid-range backup from the roof of the neighboring building, and Rei would watch from an elevated position some forty meters away, acting as a spotter and sentry.

Hopefully, it wasn't just a lot of fuss over nothing.

He tapped the transmit button once and heard two clicks in response, signifying the readiness of his team. Then, with a quick Shunshin, he was at the mouth of the alley, a kunai held in readiness. His eyes had the alleys layout memorized within a fraction of a second, and he stared directly at the movement that had drawn his attention.

It was an middle-aged man, with ragged brown hair and dissheveled clothing, passed out drunk on the pavement.

So much for enemy infiltration.

Kakashi sighed and stowed the kunai in his hip-pouch, motioning Takumaru down from his perch on the rooftop above him. The Nara jumped down with his usual grace, landing a few feet away from the drunk. Kakashi moved to join him, his nose wrinkled in disgust. The inebriated individual had had a bit more than one too many, judging by the smell of booze.

He frowned slightly. His insticts, which he had long ago learned to trust whole-heartedly, screamed that there was something off, some detail that wasn't right. But he had no idea what it was. Crouching next to the drunken man, he gave him a quick once over, scouting for irregularities in the man's position, breathing, eye-movement, _something _that would clue him in. But he could sense nothing. He reached down and checked the man's pulse. Normal.

Looks like he had been wrong.

Kakashi sighed and turned away, giving Rei the 'all clear' signal. But, even as he tensed his legs, preparing to jump away, he heard a stifled gasp over the radio and then a burst of static. Kakashi's eyes widened and he turned back to Takumaru, just in time to see the Chuunin slump to his knees, a kunai imbedded in his torso.

Enemies.

Kakashi went from shock to cold calculation in an instant, leaping away from the enclosing walls of the alley and getting to the high ground. Perched atop a telephone pole, he saw a blur of movement racing across a nearby rooftop, and another a block or so away. They were both heading the same direction, and from the looks of things, they were in a hurry.

He growled. There was no time to help his comrades but he couldn't simply leave them.

He formed a quick seal. "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!" There was a burst of white cloud, and a pair of shadow clones stood by him. He gave them a quick nod and they dissapeared in a blur of movement. They would retrieve his teammates and get them to safety.

Leaving him free to hunt.

Then the ANBU commander vanished in a burst of speed, racing off after the two unknown intruders. As he ran, he raised his hand once more to the radio, speaking in the crisp tone of command he adopted in these sort of situations. "This is Tiger to all units in area B12. Two hostiles entering your immediate vicinity. Intercept and eliminate."

"This is Scar. I want those men captured alive. Avoid fatal injuries. Shock 'em and drop 'em, boys."

"Tiger, this is Lynx, requesting confirmation of primary objective."

Kakashi smirked. He'd let Scar, better known as Morino Ibiki, have his way this time. After all, it'd give the ANBU Interrogation Squad something to do on a rainy day, and it would satisfy Kakashi's own curiosity as to exactly what these individuals were after. "Objective confirmed, Lynx. Make capture your first priority." He heard Ibiki's dark chuckle over the radio and grinned.

Redoubling his speed, he closed the gap on them slowly, bringing his skills in pursuit and tracking into play. There was no way these two were going to get away from him, not while they were in his village, on _his _territory.

It was only a matter of time...

Suddenly, his body stiffened as a rush of information crowded into his brain. He staggered to a halt, shocked at the unexpected mental activity. Images flashed through his mind at a lightning pace, transitioning smoothly from one to another. He saw his wounded subordanite, Takumaru, lying at his feet. Next the Nara was on his shoulder. Then there was a flash of pain, and then nothing.

His eyes widened in sudden understanding.

His Kage Bunshin had been destroyed.

_How?!_

Turning around with a snarl, he sprinted back the way he had come, landing at the rooftop where he had left Takumaru.

_But the Nara wasn't alone._

He saw a shadowy figure bending low over the prostrate form of his subordinate. He saw moonlight glinting off a kunai, its edge wickedly bright in the pale light. The kunai was lifted into the air.

And then it fell.

And Kakashi burst into action.

With speed he didn't know he possessed, he was there, barreling the unknown assailaint over with sheer weight and momentum. The man hit the rooftop and rolled quickly to his feet with surprising skill.

The skill of a trained shinobi.

Kakashi faced off with his assailant, crouching protectively in front of Takumaru, shielding his fallen comrade with his own body. The unknown shinobi merely stood there, his face hidden in shadow.

"You are under arrest for the attempted murder of a Konoha shinobi," barked Kakashi, his voice sharp with anger.

The shinobi tilted his head to the side, mocking him. "Oh? By whose authority?"

"The Yondaime Hokage of Konohagakure."

There was a dark chuckle from his faceless enemy. "The Hokage, you say? Impressive. But..." his voice trailed off as he flashed suddenly into combat readiness, his kunai held at the ready. Kakashi growled and tensed his body in preparation for the combat to come.

Then the pain hit him.

He bit down a scream as a blade sink into his back, setting his nerves afire in a wash of pain. In a flash, he was five meters away, the unconscious Takumaru in tow. He saw his assailant. Or, rather, both of them.

From his position, they looked exactly the same.

_Bunshin!_ His mind screamed at him, but it was far too late. He saw the shinobi he had been speaking to fade into the air as if it had never been, leaving nothing more than a small cloud that was quickly blown away in the breeze, and he suddenly know what manner of shinobi he was up against. That had been no illusion. That jutsu was...

_Kumo Bunshin no Jutsu._

The shinobi stared at Kakashi, chuckling slightly. "So sorry, but I don't recognize his authority. There's only one Kage that I serve. The Yondaime Raikage of Kumogakure."

Kakashi growled and reached behind his back, ripping the kunai out of his spine with brutal force. He threw it with savage force and unerring aim, but the shinobi dodged it with ease. But the move brought his face into the light.

It was the face of the drunkard he and his team had found.

In a flash of inspiration, Kakashi knew what it was that had set his insticts off. It had been in front of him all the time. The man's pulse. It had been regular; far too regular for that of some drunken idiot with liberal amount of alcohol poisoning his system.

_How could he have been so blind?!_

But there was no time for thought. He felt a cold chill spreading through his body, originating from the stab wound in his back. _Poison_. Already he could feel his muscles relaxing, going limp. A groan escaped from his lips as his legs buckled under him and he collapsed, trying to force his body into movement. He couldn't die here. Not from such a stupid blunder. If Obito ever found out that his rival, the great Hatake Kakashi, had fallen prey to his own overconfidence...

He'd never hear the end of it.

The Kumo shinobi chuckled darkly as he eyed Kakashi. "Looks like the poison's already taking effect," he said with a smirk. "I'd finish you now, but I have a mission to complete. Besides... You'll be dead soon enough. But, before I go..." The Kumo shinobi's body was enveloped by a sudden cloud, before suddenly reappearing next to Kakashi. Reaching down, he snatched the transciever from around Kakashi's neck and dropped it onto the rooftop, smashing it under his heel. "There. Now this little bird can't sing. Tell your friends in the afterlife that Hideki Kazuki sends his regards."

Then there was another sudden wisp of cloud, and the shinobi was gone.

And Kakashi was dying.

_No_.

He couldn't die yet.

He couldn't fail.

_Not again_.

Gritting his teeth, he _willed _his body to move, overpowering the poison through sheer force of will. His arm made its way slowly, so slowly, to the kunai pouch at his hip. Wanting to scream from the effort, he pulled out a three-pronged kunai, seized it as firmly as he could with his dwindling strength, and shoved it into the ground at his side.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then there was a burst of golden light, and Namikaze Minato, the Yellow Flash and Yondaime Hokage of Konoha, was at his side.

It took the blond Hokage all of ten milliseconds to scan the entire area and diagnose the situation. Then he was bending over Kakashi, his hand covered in the forest green light of a diagnostic jutsu. As he examined Kakashi's body, he spoke to his student, his voice full of concern and barely suppressed fury.

"Kakashi... What happened?"

By now the gray-haired Copy Ninja was having considerable trouble breathing, but he managed to gasp out the barest essentials. "Attacked... Kumo-nin... _Poison_..."

Minato bared his teeth in righteous anger at Kakashi's implication. It was Kumo that had done this to his student. Kumo that had betrayed the trust he had extended to them, the chance he had offered them. Those ungrateful traitors had tried to take his last student away, one of the few precious people he had left.

They'd regret that.

He'd make sure of that _personally_.

Then he saw the results of the diagnostic jutsu and he nearly bit his tongue in horror. The poison was incredibly fast acting, eating away through the musles and tissues of Kakashi's back and spreading its nefarious way through his lymphatic and circulatory systems. If he didn't get his student to a healer _now_, it would be too late.

He moved quickly, crossing his hands in a quick seal. There was a puff of smoke as a Kage Bunshin appeared next to him, its eyes filled with the same rage and fear that he himself was feeling. The clone gathered up the two fallen men and dissapeared in a blinding flash of yellow light. He stood there for a moment longer, wishing that he could've gone with them, if only to make sure that their treatment went well.

No. First, he'd hunt down and destroy the son of a bitch that had dared to step foot in his village, attack his men. Minato's eyes glowed with a golden light, and then he was gone, vanished in a flash of light.

* * *

Hiashi faced off against the masked intruder, his pale eyes narrowed in cold, calculating fury. This pathetic commoner had _dared _enter this place, the Hyuuga clan compound. That was a crime in and of itself. But to compound that error by snatching away his heir while she slumbered?

This cretin had an obvious death wish.

Hiashi's eyes stared hard at the motionless shinobi. His all-seeing eyes could see through the man's feeble attempts to hide his heir from his sight; he could see Hinata, barely four years of age, either unconscious or drugged, her body covered in the rough sackcloth this unknown shinobi used to cover her.

No, not an unknown shinobi.

The emissary from Kumogakure.

This man, the very man that Hyuuga Hiashi had met with in peace talks, treaty negotiations, traditional tea ceremonies, and the various other activities he had participated in to build up the rocky relationship between the two hidden villages, must have planned this all along. The entire time, this fool of a shinobi had smiled and nodded, putting up an elaborate act for the sake of his Konoha audience. And all the while he had been plotting this unspeakable act of idiocy. No, not idiocy. _Heresy_.

This fool would suffer dearly.

Hiashi crouched low to the ground, preparing to destroy the man in an instant. Chakra swirled along his palms, pouring out through his tenketsu as he prepared his Jyuuken. After all, the Hyuuga Taijutsu style was the greatest in Konoha, just as their Byakugan surpassed all other bloodlines, even that of those Uchiha upstarts. This Kumo-nin didn't stand a chance.

But he would never get the chance to strike.

Suddenly, his Byakugan was blinded by a sudden flash of bright yellow light. Instinctively, his Byakugan faded, its vision too powerful to stand the sudden glare. He heard a sudden sound, a muffled thump, and then a gasp of shock.

Hiashi opened his eyes, blinking away the spots from his vision. When he could see clearly, his Hyuuga stoicism was put to the test.

The shinobi was stll there, but his burden was gone, and the bag that had covered the Hyuuga heiress lay empty on the cold ground. But that wasn't what shook the Hyuuga the most.

No, it was the sight of the Yondaime Hokage, Namikaze Minato, standing some eight meters behind the Kumo shinobi, his eyes tinged with gold as he focused his fury on the baffled ninja. The Hokage's chakra was flaring, its power and potency easily surpassing that of any shinobi Hiashi had ever met. Hiashi had seen this sight before, or at least this same scenario...

But the Kumo shinobi's face was contorted in a rictus of primal terror, the sheer strength of the Hokage shocking him to his core.

Minato gently lay Hinata on the ground and ran a kindly hand over her forehead. Hiashi frowned as he noticed a look of concern flash over the Hokage's fair features. But it was gone as quickly as it had come, and Minato was rising to his feet, his black cloak flapping in the chakra-induced storm that surrounded his limber frame.

"Shinobi of Kumogakure..." stated Minato coldly as the enemy turned to face him. "For attempted murder of a Konoha Shinobi, as well as kidnapping the heir to the Hyuuga clan, your life is now forfeit."

The Kumo shinobi seemed frozen in terror for a moment, but choked down his fear and forced himself to move. Seizing a wickedly serrated kunai from his hip pouch, he rushed towards the blonde Hokage, clearly intent on retrieving Hinata and making off with her once again.

But Minato was having none of it.

Hiashi watched in awe as the Hokage's eyes seemed to shine with a golden light. But that was only the beginning. In one smooth motion, Minato brought one of his signiature triple-pronged kunai to bear with his right hand, while his left hand made a strange flicking motion, as if he was beckoning the shinobi to come to him. For a split second, nothing happened.

Then Hiashi activated his Byakugan, completely at a loss.

The Kumo shinobi had seemed to freeze in midair. Not, he wasn't _frozen_; he was still moving, but at a snail's pace. It was almost as if time had slowed down around him. But that couldn't be... could it?

But there was no time to answer that question. In a flash, Minato moved, appearing behind the shinobi in a blaze of golden fury, his kunai held out in an attack position.

Then time flowed once more.

A shower of blood rained down around the enemy shinobi as his left arm fell to the ground, his lifeblood gushing from the stump in torrents as he screamed his pain out to the uncaring night. Clutching the ruin of what had once been his arm, he fell to the ground and writhed with pain. And Hiashi watched in mingled awe and fear as Minato turned about and seized the shinobi by the neck, raising him into the air with one hand.

"Now, traitor," spoke Minato with a menacing air, "you will tell me what you are doing here and what you hoped to gain." The Kumo shinobi clenched his teeth against the pain and spat at the Hokage, blood mixed in with his saliva.

"H-hah! As if I'd betray my mission, _Yellow Flash!_" Minato raised an eyebrow, staring impassively at the shinobi as bloody spittle trickled down his left cheek.

Then, bringing his right hand to bear, he looked down at it, which prompted the Kumo shinobi to look as well. Then the wind began to swirl around his hand as chakra summoned it closer, twisted it about, forming itself into a small, hand-held typhoon called...

"_Rasengan!" _Minato shouted the word into the night as he brought the orb to bear against the Kumo shinobi, grinding it against the stump of what used to be the man's arm. The shinobi screamed in pain as the winds tore at his flesh, ripping the remnants of the limb to shreds and covering the two shinobi in blood.

"_Stop! Stop! Kami, make it stop!" _The man screamed over and over. But Minato didn't. He continued to grind his way through the man's flesh, one excruciatingly slow inch at a time. Hiashi had to steel his nerves and force himself to watch. But even the legendary Hyuuga poker face was failing him, and he couldn't help but show some of the horror he was feeling. This... this man in front of him... So powerful, so cruel... What had happened to the cheerful and fun-loving Hokage he knew and loathed? He had always wondered how the blonde had become Hokage, for despite his admittedly immense power, the Hyuuga clan head had never seen him in combat. And now...

He was scared shitless.

Finally, the shinobi broke, promising to tell Minato anything, _everything_, if only the pain would stop. Minato dispelled the Rasengan with ease and stared the Kumo shinobi dead in the eyes. Gasping for breath and fighting to remain conscious, the man began to speak. His words were hesitant and gasped out inbetween shallow, pain-filled breaths of air, but he kept talking, too fearful of this blone demon before him to do otherwise.

Hiashi got angrier and angrier the more the cretin spoke. Kumogakure had begun this war in an attempt to take advantage of Konoha's apparent weakness after the attack of the Kyuubi. With the death of Sarutobi, the third and greatest Hokage of Konoha, and the loss of approximately half of Konoha's elite shinobi forces, they had planned to overthrow the Fourth and take Konoha's bloodlines as their own. But as the war progressed, the Raikage had learned a hard lesson: what the Konoha shinobi lacked in quantity, they more than made up for in quality. Kumo had also learned that Konoha's newest Hokage was not as weak as they had hoped. If anything, he was stronger than Iwa had reported. Time and time again they launched their attacks, and time and time again were sent home in bitter defeat and far fewer numbers than they started with.

And then the Raikage had decided to settle for what he could get his hands on. He sent the emissary to Konoha, promising peace and conditional surrender, but the emissary's real purpose was to extract at least one excellent sample of the Hyuuga bloodline, known as the best in Konoha. The more pure and powerful the bloodline was, the better. And who possessed the most powerful Byakugan? The clan head, naturally. But Hiashi was far too strong a target for them to hope to take without a considerable fight, and they couldn't chance drawing any attention. So it had been decided that Hyuuga Hinata, the firstborn of the clan head, would be the perfect candidate.

As the man's words drew to a close, Hiashi found that he was furious beyond belief. He stepped forward to put an end to the man's life then and there, but was forced to stop as a literal explosion of killing intent burst from Minato, all focused at the Kumo shinobi. The blonde Hokage was a seething volcano of fury. In a blur of motion, his right hand was clamped on the Kumo shinobi's forehead, fingers digging into the man's skin. As the man cried aloud in pain, Minato bent close to the man and spoke.

"I told you once before that your life was forfeit. Your mission ended in failure, and your treachery was all for nothing. All that you have accomplished was to give me one more excellent reason to demolish Hidden Cloud and exterminate its inhabitants. Starting with you." The man whimpered in pain as Minato's grip tightened even further.

Then the screaming began.

To a normal bystander, it would have seemed as if nothing was happening. But Hiashi possessed the Byakugan, allowing him to see the movement and flow of chakra. And what he saw now filled him with a mix of terror and disgust.

Minato was literally destroying the man's brains from the inside out. Using the same principle he used in the Rasengan, he was invading the man's cranium with his chakra and spinning it about, creating a vortex out of brain matter and broken bone and blood.

As long as he lived, Hiashi would never forget that one, piercing scream that seemed to go on for an eternity as the shinobi's brain was liquefied from within. Many times in the future, he would close his eyes and see the blood pouring from the man's nose, eyes, mouth and ears. He would never again be able to see a blender without being reminded of the way the Kumo-nin's grey matter had battered itself against the walls of his skull, driven by the force of Minato's chakra.

What a terrible way to die.

Finally the scream ended, and the shinobi was dead. Minato dropped the corpse uncaringly to the ground, his eyes cold and impassive. Then he strode over to Hinata's limp form and looked down at her for a moment before reaching down. He picked her up gently and began walking over to Hiashi, looking down at the child in his arms with a soft smile beginning to creep over his lips.

Then he froze.

He suddenly looked at himself with wide eyes. His shinobi attire was covered in blood and gore, and Hinata's clothing where he had held her was now stained a dirty red. This child, this innocent little girl, was now tainted by blood.

_The blood of the man he killed in cold blood._

He took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling strangely surreal. For a moment, he was in a different time, not more then a month or two ago. Instead of a pale girl in his arms, he saw a small blonde boy, asleep in a bed. He saw the corpses of deceased shinobi scattered about him, blood and gore strewn over the walls and floor of a house. He saw blood streaked across a boy's cheek.

_The blood of shinobi_.

Is _this _what he fought for? Is _this _what his students, friends and subordinates died to protect? A world filled with blood and death? Did Sarutobi sacrifice himself to preserve a village that could not even protect their young from the horrors of the shinobi way of life? What kind of a village, country, what kind of _world _allowed their children, the hope for a better and brighter tomorrow, to be exposed to this kind of horror, this kind of lifestyle?

Is _this _what Karada died for?

So that Naruto could grow up in a world in constant turmoil?

Is _this _the reason she sacrificed herself?

So their child could grow up in a world of weapons and warfare?

A world drenched in blood, both pure and foul?

The world suddenly snapped back into focus, and Minato once more found himself gazing down at Hinata, dirtied with the blood of his enemies. He turned slightly and glanced at the corpse of the fallen Kumo-nin, suddenly realizing why he did what he did.

He fought and killed for his children.

Who were his children?

_Everyone in Konoha_.

That was the reason for this constant bloodshed. Enemies attacked, and he would defend. It was his duty as Hokage to uncover every plot, foil every dastardly plan, to wade through an ocean of blood if it meant saving the life of one innocent. What he did was unforgiveable. But perhaps... He stared at the child in his arms and felt his lips twitch into a small smile.

Perhaps the innocents would one day forgive him. And even if they didn't, he'd fight on. So the children could mature, grow strong and wise and fair. And then he would pass on the torch, the Will of Fire that blazed so strongly within his generation, so that they could defend their children in turn. On that day, he would rest, and watch from afar as his children and his children's children fought to defend this world from those who would destroy all that was good in this world.

But until then... He'd fight to protect them. Just as he'd protected this small wisp of a girl in his arms. She was frail and weak now, but she would one day grow from this tiny sapling to a sturdy oak tree, able to weather the strongest attacks.

It was for this that he killed.

Namikaze Minato handed Hinata to a grateful, yet still somewhat frightened Hiashi, who bowed deeply in respect to him. The blonde smiled and looked up at the night sky, seeing the stars twinkling serenely. Somewhere among their celestial number, he felt as if the wizened face of Sarutobi was smiling down at him, nodding slightly in approval.

The Will of Fire would blaze even brighter from this point on.

Minato turned away and stode into the annals of legend, his blond hair flowing like a golden mane and his azure eyes sparkling. He was the Yondaime Hokage of the Hidden Leaf village.

And his village needed him.

* * *

AN: I was originally going to make this chapter longer, but this just felt like a good place to end the chapter. I could've thrown in a bunch of stuff about the aftermath of the whole affair, but frankly, I'm rather eager to get Naruto started in the Academy. So expect a short time skip (just a year or two). There's no information regarding this period in canon, so instead of coming up with a bunch of stuff, I'll just move past it and get to the academy. We'll be seeing bits of Naruto's first day, as well as how he interacts with his dad and the other kids in the Academy, as well as the different attitude his teachers may or may not have towards him. Towards the end of the chapter, I'll start addressing the Uchiha massacre period, which, by my reckoning, should occur before Naruto's group ends their first year at the Academy.

There's a few things I want to say. Firstly, concerning the multiple Kumo shinobi running around, I'd like to point out that, since Minato is still in charge, Kumo is going to be far more cautious then they were when they were dealing with Sarutobi. So, instead of just one guy going directly to the Hyuuga compound, they're using diversionary tactics to draw away the Konoha forces. The emissary, better known as the fake drunk guy, was supposed to sneak in while his comrades drew Kakashi and his group away. But the fool couldn't resist going after Takumaru, who appeared so helpless, and his destruction of the Kage Bunshin brought Kakashi running. And, no, he didn't know that was Kakashi, otherwise he would have knifed the Copy Ninja on the spot instead of letting the poison do the work.

Secondly, you'll note a different aspect of Minato's personality emerging in this chapter. The battle-hardened shinobi that will do anything for the sake of the mission. His ideals, once so bright and grand, have tarnished somewhat since Karada's death (which he still hasn't entirely gotten over, and may never fully recover from). But, of course, Konoha's number one unpredictable ninja has a knack for bringing out the best in people, so don't lose hope for Minato just yet.

And lastly, in the teaser, I made it look like Hinata had died. That wasn't what I had planned. I was originally planning to merely incapacitate her in some way, making it impossible for her to become a shinobi. From there, she would travel the road of a medic nin, staying at the hospital and doing what she could to heal those in need. It seemed fitting for her personality. But I just couldn't do it. I was too weak. One look at the duck butt hairdo and the pale eyes and I just lose all my determination. So she's going to emerge from this kidnapping just fine. Well, other than having an inferiority complex bigger than the Hokage Monument and being about as shy as Bigfoot.

That's it for now. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll try to get another one out as soon as I can. Don't forget to leave a review; they help my muse concentrate. ;P

_Jiraiya lives!_

'Til next time,

Gaereth


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